


The Sounds of the World

by CommonSenseisPaineful



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Canon Era, Eventual Smut, Flashbacks, Fluff, Frottage, Historical Inaccuracy, Hurt/Comfort, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Mentions of other characters - Freeform, Oral Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Period-Typical Homophobia, Religious Guilt, Sexual Content, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-20
Updated: 2017-05-30
Packaged: 2018-09-25 21:16:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 22,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9844931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CommonSenseisPaineful/pseuds/CommonSenseisPaineful
Summary: “One day, the sounds of the world will fall apart until you recognise the melody that’s been waiting for you. I promise you little one.”Soulmate AUEvery soulmate has a song, a beat that only they and their partner know.Problem is, Alexander Hamilton doesn't know his.Canon era





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for the long hiatus!  
> This may be updated a little slower than previous fics, but watch his space for more.  
> All comments and kudos are immensely appreciated, seriously it's what I live on.
> 
> Enjoy!

“One day, the sounds of the world will fall apart until you recognise the melody that’s been waiting for you. I promise you little one.”  
\--

He hand ached like hell, Hamilton remarked as he finished the last sentence on the page. Two droplets of ink had fallen onto the page, bleeding a little into the corners- but overall it wasn’t too shabby. Good enough for his second week as an aide. As the words dried Alexander stretched and massaged his wrist and fingers, the trembling pain from a cramped position dulling slowly, thankfully. He must try to remember to pause sometimes, but with the bare room so quiet his mind was swept up into the black and white parchment.  
Almost too quiet for his liking, it made his hands tap against the wooden desk to just break the silence. Tapping out no particular rhythm as the pen scratched against paper. Couldn’t recall any tune anyway, despite his mother’s best efforts- Alexander just couldn’t remember the song he hadn’t been taught. Despite coaxing and prompting and-  
A sharp knock at the door dragged him back.  
Standing to attention, Hamilton straightened his back until he seemed presentable. Watching patiently as the tall, powerful figure entered- nodding at him to be at ease.  
“Your Excellency sir, how can I be of service?”  
Washington smiled faintly behind the solid stone demeanour; plucky, scrappy and all but fickle young Hamilton with the flicker of a fervent need to impress, to prove his worth.  
“I was going to ask if you had finished the letters to Knox and to congress, yet it seems you have written a lexicon in these few hours.”  
Washington stared pointedly at the rather obstructive pile of papers that required signing, the loops and curves of Alexanders writing covering the page like ivy on a wall.  
“I finished both sir, and the other letters that needed to be written.”  
“The other letters? You mean the ones the other aides are writing?”  
Washington raised an eyebrow at Alex, making him shift his balance uncomfortably under the all-seeing gaze of his General. It felt like being under a magnifying glass in the sun, one wrong move and the beam would alight him entirely.  
“Only the ones they hadn’t started yet sir, I didn’t intend to make them seem less diligent but I had time and they were unwritten. It would ease their burden and yours sir- as you could sign and send these immediately.”  
Alexander looked up at Washington hesitantly, it’s his second week and already he’s being bold.  
“I apologise sir,” he begins to speak quicker now, raindrops falling in torrents, “if I gave caused offense I did not mean-“  
“It’s alright Lieutenant Colonel, your work is more than satisfactory I do not doubt the others would be thankful for a break. Do not overwork yourself Hamilton for the sake of pride or fear, you are much more useful alive than dead from exhaustion.”  
It hits a key note in Alexander, all he wants is to prove himself- make useful the boy who clambered onto shore with almost nothing. Death didn’t seem so bad if it secured his memory as something extraordinary, but Washington had a point.  
“You are right sir, I suppose I am finished for the night.”  
“Absolutely, food is about to be served downstairs if you would care to join the rest of us.”  
Washington turned back towards the door to hold it open, beckoning for Hamilton to leave with him and eat. As Alexander passed under Washington’s outstretched arm he spoke again.  
“Another aide is joining us Hamilton, do make a good impression.”  
Alexander opened his mouth for a retort, but the look from Washington made him quickly swallow any witty comment as he descended the staircase.

The dining room was submerged in light, realising how dim the office must have been Alexander squinted in the glare of many candles. Most of Washington’s staff were already seated, or flitting around the table with glasses and plates. A couple aides waved Hamilton over, pulling out a seat for him to sit. Tilghman sat across from him, nestling a mug of ale while he chatted to the other aides.  
“And I liked her too! But it sounded too airy and light to be my melody, it’s a shame really.”  
The others nodded in agreement, Alexander stayed silent and listened.  
“You just have to listen to people,” another butted in “sometimes they don’t even realise they’re humming it.”  
“They don’t ever start the same way as you think they will, but halfway through the tune you’ll recognise it.” Tilghman shrugged and sipped from his drink again.  
Of course they were talking about this again, anytime one of the men had anything with a woman they would brag about her song. Never seeming to realise how it didn’t match their own or just not caring.  
“Someone’s got to have it, doesn’t matter how long it will take you. Someone has the same song.”  
A couple men sighed in agreement.  
“I can drink to that.”  
Someone new spoke, and Alexander craned his head a little to see. A young man with dark curls tied back, freckles dotting his face like paint splatters. A strange energy was in his eyes, a strange heat and vivacity. The aides lifted their glasses, Hamilton stared at the stranger for a few seconds before drinking. The new aide.

The boisterous chatter continued for most of the evening, dulled down only by the weight of the night pressing sleep onto tired men. The first weary few trailed out to their tents, and Alexander sat only for a few minutes later before rising to leave. The dark night was almost intoxicating, when the door had shut and cut off all semblance of candlelight he could almost imagine he was standing under the same sky he would dream of back in Nevis and St Croix. Alexander didn’t like to dwell on it, but the dinner table discussions had left his mind wandering.

“Everyone has someone special waiting for them Alex, a soulmate.”  
Hamilton began the short walk back to the tents, his mother’s words a whisper on the wind.  
“And this person will love you all their life, so dearly you will never forget it.”  
The grass wet with dew was silent under his soft footsteps, along with the rest of the night.  
“Do you have a soulmate mama?”  
“Hush little one. Let me tell you what’s special about soulmates.”  
His mother had held him close that night, stroking back his hair with her elegant but tired fingers.  
“Each soulmate has one way of finding each other. A song that only you and them know.”  
“But how will I remember this song? I can’t think of any I know.”  
His words rang in his ears even now, it hurt.  
“One day, the sounds of the world will fall apart until you recognise the melody that’s been waiting for you. I promise you little one.”

Alexander pulled back the tent flap, sitting down on his bed and stared at the canvas.  
Poor Alexander Hamilton: bastard, orphan and worst of all, without a soulmate. It had only occurred to him later on in life when he acquired that second title why. No one could love someone who forgot their own tune.  
When he was young, he had worried when the other children began to sing their melodies in the dusty roads, and how his stayed mute and silent. His mother had tried to teach him music, but no note or beat sounded familiar. He had grown up with it, like the other bitter things in his life. Alexander Hamilton, silent as a caged bird.

“Excuse me, are you Lieutenant Colonel Hamilton?”  
Alexander snapped out of his doldrums at the voice, that young man was peering through the tent at Hamilton.  
“I am, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”  
The freckled man stepped inside properly, an outstretched hand and a smile.  
“I didn’t introduce myself properly, John Laurens sir. I believe I am to be sharing your tent.”  
Ah, that would make sense. The last man here (with terrible snores that kept Hamilton up all night) had fallen sick with a fever, and the last he had heard the man had gone home. Tents don’t stay half-filled for long.  
“Alexander Hamilton,” he shook John Laurens’s hand and smiled up at him “make yourself comfortable.”  
John Laurens didn’t seem too displeasing, he looked neat and hygienic and like a man who would be comfortable in silence or talk. Yes, he liked this John Laurens.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A flashback and more questions about soulmates from an inquisitive John. Then, something new.

“My god Alex, have you even slept?”

Alexander mumbled a hushed reply, not even looking away from his work. Most of the time when the others asked him this, they just frowned at the dark bags under his eyes and the tremble in his frame, and let him work. Instead, to Alexander’s surprise, the voice grabbed him by his shoulders and lifted him from the chair.

“Alexander? Can you hear me?”

John spun him around and stared at him, Alex blearily looked up at John’s concerned look.  
“Don’t worry Laurens ‘m fine. Not tired.”

With that Hamilton yawned, John’s laugh roused him further from drowsiness. It was a nice laugh, light but genuine. He could listen to that all day.

“Yes Alex, you’re fine and I’m British. Come on, we can make it back to the tents now without looking like we’re shirking responsibilities.”

It was unnerving how quickly Alexander had become attached to John Laurens. He was friendly and likable, almost the complete opposite of Hamilton. Yet the two in just four weeks had become almost inseparable.

“You’re a good friend John Laurens, but I still have work to do.”

Laurens wrapped his arm around Hamilton’s shoulder, gripping him tightly as they walked out the office.

“No you don’t, you have already finished all of your correspondence and have started to try and steal mine.”

Oh, that was true. It had only taken Hamilton a couple hours to write, and John’s desk was just close enough he could grab some of his orders without disturbing Laurens.  
The pair walked along the muddy road to the tents, the downpour of rain had only just relented for a couple hours. So men scrambled about in the break from the torrential storm, not noticing John almost dragging Alexander into the tent. The afternoon sun hung lazily above the treetops like the lastly dregs of whisky- threatening to dip behind the grey clouds again.

Laurens was a good friend, Alex thought with his mind still cloudy, a caring friend. Nothing but a friend the quieter part of his brain whispered, and Alexander frowned at that as John helped him sit. Laurens was very kind, especially to Alexander. They now always sat together at meals, making the other aides chuckle at their closeness. Laurens told Alex of stories from his time in Europe, Alex told John stories of his time in New York. Not Nevis or St Croix, he had promised a long time ago that no one would know of that. Not any more than they had to.  
“Hamilton I’m going to read, try and get some sleep and I’ll wake you before supper.”  
He only stripped himself of his boots, lying down of the bed was comfortable enough with or without the uniform. In the quiet of the room Alexander swore he could hear his own breathing, just one candle providing light for John made it dark and cosy. Hamilton turned onto his back, lacing his fingers together on his chest and breathed. This reminded him of floating in water, the warm ocean surrounding his islands was pleasant to swim in. Alex would not mind lying in warm water like that forever, feeling the oceans swells rippling far below him harmlessly. There was nothing but the pelting rain here, not distressing him terribly- but putting Alexander on guard if the weather soured further. The string knots of tension twisted around his heart, threatening to tighten with a clap of thunder. Rain he could manage, thunderstorms he could not.

Alexander sighed and moved onto his side, thinking of storms again never made him sleep well, if at all. The sounds of shuffling and the turning pages of a book told Alex that John was still there, but that he couldn’t seem to settle.

“Alexander are you still awake?”

Laurens spoke very quietly, almost unsure in speaking in fear of waking up Hamilton.  
“Unfortunately so,” despite his fatigue sleep seemed nothing more than a dream. Ironic really.

“May I ask you something then?”  
Hamilton turned to look at John sitting on his bed, a thick book lay in his lap with a scrap of paper marking the page.

“What is it Laurens?"

“Do you believe, that if everyone has a song for their soulmate, that eventually the world would run out of notes and melodies?”

“I suppose so, unless some are reused when no one can remember it anymore.”

Laurens smiled a little, still staring down at the book.  
“How could someone forget their soul song?”

“I don’t know.”

Alexander smiled up at John in amusement as he thought, clenching his teeth at the memory.  
How could he forget it?

“Say if someone were to forget their soul song, how would they remember it?”

“I don’t know.”

“But wouldn’t they write it down in the first place, learn how to write sheet music and get someone else to play it whenever they couldn’t remember. It would seem strange that someone wouldn’t try very hard to remember what they forgot.”

Laurens was almost rambling now, more talking to himself than anyone else.

“I don’t know John. I’ve never heard about anyone without a soul song, I doubt I ever will.”

John fell quiet as Alex rolled over, facing away from him now. He would scowl at the canvas wall rather than his dear friend. For several minutes both were silent, and yet Alex didn’t hear John opening the book again until he spoke.

“I’ve never heard of anyone like that, it’s just that perhaps if there were there could be some way of helping them.”

“It’s alright John, I’m just tired. You’re probably right anyway.”

Laurens was quiet, and it didn’t feel good to Alex knowing he had made his friend uncomfortable.

“Not like soul songs matter anyway, I know plenty of people who are married for reasons other than their melodies.”

His voice sounded bitter, and Laurens reopened the books and flicked though a couple pages. The rain had begun to fall again, slower than before. Eventually Alexander’s eyes closed and he drifted into sleep.

 

“Mama, why is that woman looking at that man like that?”

Alex held tight onto his mother’s hand as they walked together through the street, his mother had paused at a stall selling unfamiliar meat, picking through her meagre purse to pay when Alex had seen them.  
A woman with fair skin and fairer hair, lips red and eyes dark. Her husband preoccupied with some jewellery stall. Her gloved hands held a parasol, creating mock shade for her to stand comfortably in. She was staring, puzzled and encapsulated by one of the men sitting on the edge of dock- a round bearded gentleman behind him talking to a trader. The slave was humming a tune and tapping with his foot, and the woman just stared at him.

“Quiet Alex, it doesn’t matter what she’s looking at.”  
Her husband finished his purchase, brandishing a garish gold necklace at the woman with a flourish. She smiled and embraced him, but stared at the slave as she wrapped her arms around his neck. The slave stood and followed the bearded man down the docks, only looking back to catch her gaze.

 

“Hamilton! Get up, it’s late.”

John shook him gently, but still it felt painful opening his eyes. The room was very dark, the candle extinguished and night engulfing the air.

“I slept?”

“Yes and don’t act so surprised, if only you gave yourself time to relax rather than work yourself into oblivion you might sleep better Alexander.”

Groggily he pulled on his boots and followed Laurens back to the main house, where already the light was spilling out onto the grass. They were late, so most of the food was gone with what meagre portions they received anyway. Hamilton and Laurens didn’t seem to mind it though, enjoying the company of the other aides. Laurens laughed at some bawdy joke, his laughter so much more pleasant than the others. His friend turned to smile at Hamilton, enjoyment so visible in his blushed cheeks. Alexander couldn’t help but smile too, drumming his fingers on the table as he laughed.

With the amber light and perhaps a little haze from the alcohol, Laurens looked stunning. Flame burning brighter than even the stars outside the rooftop, his ink-stained fingers tapping out the beginning of a tune on the wood.

He froze.

Alex tapped it out again, the only eight notes he could think of. Quietly, he played them over and over on the table, drilling the melody into memory. John was still laughing with the others, unaware of how silent Alexander was aside from his hands. When Alexander looked at John, with a couple curls falling from his tie and his eyes creased in laughter, the eight notes became easier. Familiar to Alexander despite never hearing it before. Never in the four weeks he had known him Laurens had hummed his soul song, not once. Both seemed mutually agreed on silence.

“Alexander are you alright?”

John had turned back to him now, the flush beginning to leave his cheeks.

“Just perfect.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enter, Americas Favourite Fighting Frenchman.
> 
> Exit, Alexander's logical thought process.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy!  
> Kudos are appreciated but comments are adored!

He could have looked worst, to be perfectly honest. A little scruffy hair, a couple ink stains on the coat, but otherwise absolutely presentable. For a dinner. With some of the most important members of the continental army... right.

Alex weaved his way through the darkened corridors of the small cottage that was luckily abandoned by the time the army arrived, knocking on the door lit up amongst the many gloomy ones. As he heard the shuffling of feet Alexander once again tugged on his collar to straighten it, frustrated at how the coat seemed permanently creased.

John was bathed in a warm glow from the candlelight, stray curls tucked behind his ears and the freckles on his cheeks even more prominent when he smiled at Alex.

"Alexander!"

"Laurens, I am in dire need of your assistance. Could you save my reputation and future with your skills?"

John laughed, moving aside to let Alex into the much warmer room. Laurens was half dressed, shirt sleeves rolled up and semi-buttoned waistcoat. Even in his state of disarray he was...  
He was something.

"How may I help you Hammie, we don't have long before we have to leave."

Alexander fiddled with a hairbrush placed on a dresser, standing almost sheepishly until John wrapped an arm around his shoulder.

"In truth, I may need you to help... untangle this mess."

He indicated to his hair, dark tangles and knots formed from days without brushing.

"So I see, it might take me a little longer to undo this puzzle."

Alex wrapped his arms around the back of a chair, head tilted backwards to give John the best accessibility. The first tug was painful, and Laurens noticed his discomfort and began carding his hair through his fingers instead to try and ease the knots. By closing his eyes, Alexander felt he was almost in another world- one where it was just him and Laurens together...

Alexander shook his head, causing John to tut and reach back for the hairbrush again. His thoughts were dangerous. Not like the volatile and electric dreams of revolution and freedom, but of something much more akin to a bullet. Scars lasting much longer than a war and with much worse consequences. That didn't stop Alexander replying those first eight notes over and over until he fell asleep each night.

"John?"

Laurens hummed, brushing slowly to a rhythm Alexander couldn't quite place.

"How long has it been since you've been to one of these?"

"Hmm?"

"A dinner, an event like tonight. Your father must have taken you to many."

John stopped his combing, playing with a strand of Alexander's hair between his thumb and finger.

"Some time I believe, I had no fondness for them anyway. Just places where everyone judges everyone else, and everyone else tries to believe they fit in."

Alexander hadn't properly seen something like this, only watching through rose-tinted windows at the chandeliers, and the conversations and the drink. He'd rather work, not be suffocated by the overwhelming odour of perfume. But maybe with John he could just stand it.

"I would not be here if I enjoyed them Alexander," another sharp tug of on his hair forced Alex to stretch his neck further, glancing at John as he concentrated. He frowned at a particularly unruly knot, biting his lip as the brush worked through Alexander's hair. Alexander forced himself to close his eyes.

Hamilton was certain Laurens was unaware of him, unaware of what had happened. Somehow that made it harder for Alexander to sleep when he could hear Johns slow breathing in the bed next to him. If only he could...

No.

He couldn't risk his companionship with John Laurens, the amicable atmosphere that had surrounded them. If there was one thing that would remain unscarred from Alexander's recklessness, it would be him.

"There. You look just about presentable. Perhaps a bit dishevelled but a vast improvement nonetheless."

Laurens finished with a flourish, setting the hairbrush down and stepping backwards to button his waistcoat.

"And what are you suggesting about my appearance normally my dear Laurens?"

Alexander grinned up at him, crossing his arms in fake irritation.

"Oh nothing, just that you don't look like you've been dragged through the countryside by a British horse."

The hairbrush hit Laurens on the chest, causing him to jump and drop his coat. Alexander laughed as John smiled up at him with narrowed eyes- wielding the hairbrush in front of him like it was a sabre.

"I suppose I deserved that, but watch your aim Alexander Hamilton or next time I might not be so kind with your hair."

Alex watched as Laurens shrugged on his coat, smoothing down the creases and pushing back an escaped curl from his face. Alexander could watch him perform menial until the sun rose.

He really needed to stop gazing at John Laurens.

 

"Alexander Hamilton, and this is John Laurens."

Alexander felt he had said that a million times tonight, shaking hands with the most influential and prestigious and quite frankly dullest people in the colonies. John spoke more often, his coral graces rising in the light of fine taste, while Hamilton merely stood and tried not to express to many opinions. Washington's orders of course. When John laughed Alexander swore it wasn't the champagne like atmosphere melding with his spirits, but it was undeniable that Hamilton looked more towards his companion than whoever they were attempting to charm. Like Washington had said, having a couple reliable and presentable representatives for the continental army would hopefully sway more of congress to their aid. If they knew who could fight for their country.

Laurens nodded at something the portly man in front of him was saying, smiling wholeheartedly like he could give them the world. Alexander cleared his throat gently, a cue for John to sever tie conversation.

"I can't agree with you more sir, and good luck to you for your position in the future!"

Alexander led John by the arm though the rooms until they found a quiet unlit hallway, laughing quietly until Laurens had stopped smiling.

"What?"

"Oh I can't agree with you more sir, Laurens you sounded so insistent."

Laurens lent against the fine wallpaper, resting his head for just a moment.

"Well what else am I expected to say? Actually I disagree with all your notions and am not looking forward to when you refuse us help? I'm not you Alexander, I won't speak like that at a place like this."

"But why not? If we're not the only genuine people here than no one will be able to see sense!"

Laurens shook his head, "And that's were both the General and I disagree with you Alex. In the company of those whose opinion of you decides your fate, it's wise not to pick arguments."

Alexander opened his mouth to protest, but Laurens hushed him and tuned to face Hamilton fully.

"I enjoy this as much as you do. You know that. We have to follow orders Hamilton, for the sake of everyone back home."

Hamilton sighed, naturally his Laurens was right about this. Southern charm and sensibilities was something he... neglected, for lack of a better word. Better to speak volumes of truth then whispers of lies. They both rested against the wall for a while, at a strange doldrums between the jostling attention back in the candlelight, and the empty space of the dark hallway. Hamilton could see how Laurens had closed his eyes, the rise and fall of his chest as steady as waves.

A cough broke the silence, and Alexander and Laurens turned to the shadow standing by the doorway.

"Hamilton. Laurens. Why might I find you hidden away in a dark corridor?"

Washington folded his arms, a slight hint of a smile behind his warning tone.

"Your excellency, we were resting. Tonight has taken a toll on my speaker Laurens."

Washington glanced at Laurens, who was now standing perfectly straight and rigid. He chuckled as the two sheepishly looked at each other.

"So I see. Well unfortunately for the both of you, there's someone you yet have to meet."

Washington led them through the bustling dining room, receiving a few nods and grunting acknowledgments occasionally. The next room was quieter, lit by a fireplace so the amber heat emanated from the heart of the room. Laurens smiled at Alexander, relishing in the comforting atmosphere- so unlike the chilling autumn weather outside.

"Marquis, may I borrow your attentions for a moment?"

A young man, almost as tall as Washington but far too fair in the face to be any older than twenty. His dark curls were pulled back, revealing a youthful but intelligent visage with an even bright smile as he approached Washington. 

"Why borrow a moment when you can take a million years mon General! And who are the two fine young men you carry with you?"

"This is Lieutenant Colonel Hamilton and Laurens, two of the most diligent aides you will ever meet Monsieur."

The man held out an arm, shaking both their hands quickly and eyes flitting from face to face.

"Well it is my pleasure to meet them sir, I am the Marquis de Lafayette."

Hamilton was a little bemused by Lafayette's so exuberant joyful attitude, the air around him felt suffused like the bubbles in champagne. 

"I will leave you three to talk privately for now Lafayette, and I would appreciate your presence at my quarters tonight so we can further discuss aid from France."

With that Washington backed away, a knowing smile fading through the many bodies in the house.

"Marquis, it is a great pleasure to meet you. I have heard of your fitful travel here."

Laurens spoke as Lafayette guided them a little closer to the fire. 

"Lafayette if you prefer, my full name is a little... unpronounceable here in America."

"Lafayette it is then," Hamilton smiled as he spoke, Lafayette was an easy man to be comfortable around, "now tell me about your travels."

The three companions spoke for what seemed like hours, Lafayette of France and when Hamilton admitted he spoke some French, Lafayette's eagerness could not be extinguished. Laurens spoke of the army, the plight of the men abandoned by congress, but also of the landscapes they had marched through. As it seemed, Laurens had quite an eye for the artistic. 

The guests began to thin and the rooms became quieter, only the constant talk from the trio. General Washington called John over, to meet some man who knew his father, and Lafayette stepped forward a little closer.

"Alexander, how well do you know John Laurens?"

"For several months now, I might assure him as my closet friend."

Alex was a little uneasy discussing this, the fine line between his feelings for Johns and his difficultly in making friendships was being trodden on.

"There is something about you two together, maybe it is my familiarity with affection mon ami, but am I wrong in thinking you admire him?"

Hamilton almost chocked a little, had he been this obvious? Was every other man aware of his sentiments?

"Lafayette, my affections towards Laurens are purely-"

"Don't fool with me Alexander."

Hamiltons eyes widened, 

"What do you mean?"

"Back in France, my first home. It was not unnatural for a mans affections towards another to grow something akin to infatuation. Like a soul song for example, you have heard non?"

Hamilton nodded.

"My Adrienne, she and I share that melody most go mad in search of. She understands why I left to defend a cause like this. Your Laurens is not dissimilar in the way you look at him, or the what glances he returns."

Did Lafayette really gleam so much about their relationship from this? And did John really do as he said? Thoughts spun round Hamiltons mind like cobwebs in the wind, but Alexander forced himself to ignore the thumping of his heart. It would do no good now to be hasty.

"Perhaps you speak some truth Lafayette, my sentiments to John are... strong. But I cannot say if it extends so far like you say."

Lafayette smiled, but looked a little concerned towards Hamilton. He gripped his arm, leaning forward into secrecy.

"Whatever happens Hamilton, I wish you only the best. I have nothing against what I speak of."

Before Hamilton could reply, John walked through the doorway and seeing their closeness, raised an eyebrow and coughed.

"Laurens! Hamilton and I have been discussing your absence as a great insult, I must insist you join us again."

"Thank you Lafayette, I hope I wasn't too sorely missed." 

Laurens wrapped his arms around Hamiltons side for just a moment, squeezing him in some friendly manner. Lafayette grinned.

Lafayette couldn't be right about Laurens feelings, not with the amicable relationship they had. But why then, why did he feel that same feeling of notes yet waiting to be played whenever John touched him?


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Boys like him can't be loved.
> 
> Boys like him shouldn't be loved,
> 
> Boys like him are loved unconditionally.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who left comments and kudos on my last couple chapters, it really helps me write!  
> Enjoy this chapter!

"Ma- Marie-Joseph Paul..." Laurens slurred, leaning heavily on Alexander's shoulder.

"Yves Roch?"

Lafayette's cheeks were pink, struggling not to laugh as John stared in thought for a moment. Alexander watched him in anticipation, having difficultly remembering himself.

"Go on ami!"

By now Lafayette was curling up on his chair in fits of stifled giggles, knocking the empty wine bottle of the table and watching it roll on the floor. Laurens and Hamilton sat aside him at the empty dining table, too late now for anyone other than the trio to be awake. Johns pained expression made Alex choke on laughter. Laurens hit him in the arm.

"Gilbert! Gilbert du Motier Marquis de Lafayette!"

Laurens shouted triumphantly, thumping the table as Lafayette burst out laughing uncontrollably. Alex struggled to breathe as John celebrated, the alcohol and company numbing what months in the army could do.

"Why? Why is your name so long?"

John drew out the last word as rested his head on the table, his breathing erratic as he laughed into the wood. The dark curls swept around his face, covering John's grin as Hamilton wrapped an arm around him.

"Quite frankly Monsieur Laurens, I don't know."

Lafayette was wiping tears from his eyes as John shuffled into Alexander's grip, leaning his head almost against his chest. Alexander took a moment to breathe.

"That was seven, wasn't it Laf?" Alex glanced up at Lafayette, praying John would move from his spot.

"Oui, seven tries it took for our dear Laurens to remember my name."

John did move, clutching at Hamiltons coat like he was frozen and Alex was the only semblance of warmth.

"M' not your Laurens..."

Lafayette smiled fondly as John hugged Alex, fumbling to reach his arms around his waist. Alex's eyes flitted up to Lafayette's, where he raised an eyebrow and looked back to Laurens.

"Yes Lieutenant Colonel Laurens you belong to no one, only to your wine glass which has split over the floor." Alexander watched as John leant back and puzzled together the dark, red and damn expensive liquid on the wooden floor.

"Oh."

"It might be time for petit Laurens to go to sleep non?"

Alexander nodded, pulling John up by his arms until he was standing upright, unsteadily, but upright nonetheless.

"Don't call me thaat."

Laurens swatted in the direction of Lafayette, holding tight onto Hamiltons jacket as they began to walk forward. He had drunk considerably more than either Alex or Lafayette, the two French bottles Lafayette had miraculously smuggled to America was drained throughout the evening mainly by their freckled companion. John had seemed so easy about it, insisting Hamilton drink with him despite his own impartiality to wine.

"Come on John, I can't just carry you back."

Alexander whispered a quick thank you to Lafayette as he held the door of the house open, giving Alex both his hands to drag Laurens. The man wasn't making it easy, relaxing his weight against him in a slump instead of walking properly. Alexander heaved him up to full height, but Laurens just nestled into the warmth of his coat muttering something against the fabric.

"Alex?"

They took a couple more steps forward, their tent nearby as Hamilton tried to move silently.

"Alex!"

"Shh! You'll wake the others and we'll get caught."

Laurens grumbled, turning his face away from Alexander's coat. He managed to walk inside the tent, immediately falling onto his bed face first. Hamilton chuckled as he fumbled at his boots, shrugging off his coat and lying back onto his own bed.

"Alex, I just wanted you to know..."

Laurens spoke almost incoherently into his pillow, shuffling his body until he was comfortable facing towards Hamilton.

"Yes Laurens?"

It was difficult to keep his voice steady, to not choke on words when John was so close and so open. So able to do something he'd regret.

"You're a really good friend, perhaps the best I've ever had hammie. I mean it."

Alexander didn't reply, forcing himself to stare at the canvas ceiling instead of John.

"Boys like me don't make many close friends Alex, I just wanted to say thank you."

"You don't need to Laurens," Alexander glanced at John "you... don't need to thank me."

"Okay, but know that I did. I thought I might do something much more stupid."

Laurens yawned, turning his back to Alex. Hamilton chucked and spoke.

"Like what?"

John was silent.

"Laurens?"

Looking closely, John was sleeping soundly already, just moments after hitting the bed. Alex Adler sighed, curling into himself and trying to will slumber upon him.

At least Laurens would sleep tonight.

 

'Be certain that I never shall forget you'

His hands shook as he reread the letter, some semblance of the evening filtering through the windows of his apartment.

'we hold too fast by one anothers hearts...'

Closing his eyes, the bustling city of London outside was almost quiet as he lay the letter back on the dresser. 

'Adieu. Write to me.'

He almost didn't notice the curls falling around his face as he leant forward, resting his arms on his knees and letting the almost silence envelop him. Their music was so similar, he thought he had recognised the notes whenever he had hummed it as they had laid together. Even though they could not utter a note outside their room for fear of someone knowing, he had been so certain they were the same melodies.

He almost didn't feel heartbreak like this.

Almost.

 

If you had asked what mistake Alexander Hamilton made that night, he would tell you it was not kissing John Laurens. Or perhaps not waking him up to ask him what he meant, or not holding him a little tighter when John stumbled across the dewy ground.

But really, he would say it was the alcohol.

The slim rays of dawn filtered through any gaps in the tent, magnifying on Alexander's hungover mind like spotlights. It was the thumping headache he that woke him first, each heartbeat sounding like one of those drums that played to the rhythm of battle. Hamilton rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand, groaning as it only seemed to make the harsh intruding light worse. Forcing one eye open, he saw that John was still passed out on the bed, arm hanging off and mouth open. His hair was a dishevelled mess, completely loose and fanning out on the pillow. Alexander groaned again at the pang in his chest he couldn't soothe with sleep and water.

Alex heaved his legs over the side, taking deep breaths to steady the ocean in his skull. The first steps were precarious, reaching out an arm in case his knees and feet decided to revolt against him.

From the peach sky piercing through the white clouds above him, it was early in the morning. That camp was humming from men just beginning to awaken but not yet rise from bed, the whole world feeling like static not yet coherent but not yet still. Blinking helped gained his bearings, trying to shake off the hangover Alexander pushed open the door to the cottage, thankful the only one there was Lafayette at the table. The Frenchman had fared no better either, resting his head on his hand and grinning slowly and painfully at Alex as he entered.

"Bonjour Alexander, How are you today?"

Lafayette seems to struggle a little not to close his eyes as he spoke, dark circles under his eyes the remaining remnants of last night.

"Just excellent Laf, if you don't count the British Army marching on my forehead."

Lafayette laughed weakly, pushing the water jug over to Alex as he sat.

"In France we call this An Eves Kiss mon ami, your pleasure places it's lips on your brow and leaves behind a mark in the form of what you speak. How fares Laurens?"

"Dear Laurens," Alexander spoke as he poured himself a glass, "is still fast asleep Lafayette. I do not want to be the one to wake him."

"Really? I might have thought you would have wanted to be beside him now."

Hamilton looked away as Lafayette stared at him curiously, the memories of the what John had drunkenly said on the edges of his mind.

"Alexander are you alright?"

The daylight was numbing his senses, a thousand matches being struck outside flooding the room.

"My head hurts Lafayette, that is all I think."

"No that is not what I mean, both times I have mentioned you and your Laurens you refuse to speak of it. What offends you so that you cannot trust in a friend? Did you and Laurens-"

"No." Hamilton turned back sharply to Lafayette, his face creasing up in the turmoil of feelings he had. The light spilling in through the window dimmed slightly, blocked by shadows.

"Alexander do you and Laurens have the same song? You are both too fond not to realise this ami? You know how I feel about this, I would never speak of this to any other."

Lafayette shuffled forward in his chair, eagerly looking up at Alexander patiently.

"It must be true, I can't imagine any other way you two would be-"

"He is not my soulmate!"

Alexander blurted out before he could think, staring down hard at the table. Lafayette was silent as he whispered.

"He... isn't my soulmate. No one is."

Lafayette seemed like he was on the verge of interrupting, so Hamilton continued.

"I... don't have a soul song Lafayette. I never did. I don't know why, but it's true that some are just born without someone to love them."

His hands began to shake again, the tears welling in his eyes.

"Alexander I didn't know."

"How could you? No one does, some don't even believe it's possible not to have a soul song."

Lafayette rose from his chair, walking around the table to wrap his arms around Alexander. His voice had become choked and thick with emotion, and Alex felt the tears begin to fall as Lafayette rubbed circles into his back, whispering French and English as Alexander sobbed.

"It's not your fault Alexander, no one deserves not to be loved."

"I don't know anymore."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, had to add some angst in somehere.
> 
> Feel free to berate me in the comments <3


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They hover on a precipice, littered with intricate snowflakes and warning gunfire. Not yet.

They had been walking for what felt like weeks. His feet were screaming, muscles sore from exertion and deprived of sleep. Hamilton kept walking.

They had passed through forests, the bronze leaf litter cluttering the ground like flecks of gold. Alexander remembered how Laurens had snatched one particularly perfect leaf from the rest, placing it delicately in between the pages in a sketchbook. He had caught John sketching it as the army rested, as well as a brief landscape of the endless forest. Laurens could speak of art and beauty as much as Hamilton could speak of congress, their breaks together spent listening to whoever had enough energy to speak. Lafayette occasionally joins them, whenever he could sneak away from the General and the others. He would lay on the grass, placing his head on his arms and spoke of France, or of some Greek or Roman literature he had studied in his youth. Particularly fond of Platos symposium.

"... he would prefer to die many deaths: while as for leaving the one he loves in a lurch, or not succoring him in peril, no man is such a craven that the influence of Love cannot inspire him with a courage that makes him equal to the bravest born."

Hamilton had nodded, massaging the pain in his thighs while the slow drag of John's pencil gave rhythm to their conversation.

It had been like this for days.

 

"Hey John, when was the last time you saw a sunflower?"

Laurens lay on his back while Alexander sat restlessly, picking at the tough grass.

"Hmm?"

"We marched past a field of them once, don't see them anymore."

As the days had got colder the flowers John was so fond so sketching wilted away, only the dark evergreen trees and mosses persevered. Even with such little experience with cold, Hamilton could sense winter clutching its claims into the earth.

"Let me see, the last time was around August."

John flipped through his sketchbook, landing at the page with the last few flowers drawn with a date neatly inscribed in the corner. Although Laurens always carried a stick of charcoal or pencil with him, Alexander's gift of a small number of watercolours for his birthday in October lit up the slim pages fantastically. Splashes of crimson, orange and yellow over the later pages- how the early light green new leaves had transformed into the fiery depictions as the marched well into autumn. It was good to see John so preoccupied with something, the way his eyes narrowed as he concentrated or how he would bring the tip of the pencil to his lips as he pondered over some edge of flora. Alexander couldn't help but gently tap along the new melodies that formed whenever he watched John do this. His first eight notes had grown into twelve, then twenty-four. More than a haphazard tune stuck in his mind, less than something of substance.

Alexander sat up as the hum of the soldiers grew a little louder, indicating they were to march again. As he stood on his feet he saw the imposing fingers of General Washington approach, despite being just as exhausted as the other men (Alexander pretended not to notice the way the General sighed and yawned as they worked late at night in hastily constructed tents) the tiredness did not exude from his solid granite demeanour.

"Hamilton, a word if you may."

The General stood a good couple inches above Alexander, his small frame exaggerated further against his commanders.

"Alexander, we may be camping indefinitely at the next sheltered area. I can guess you are unaccustomed to the winters here."

"I have only seen few in New York sir," even then sheltered by the buildings and comfier clothing the hothouse flower could only complain most of the time, "but I am ready for the cold."

"In spirit perhaps, but I have faith to believe this winter will be harsh on us Hamilton, do not let it overcome you too. Next rest draft up letters to send to congress and surrounding merchants for orders of blankets, uniforms and dry lumber."

Hamilton smiled at how Washington gave the orders, enough command to place the pen on paper but without having to dictate every word. Alexander knew Washington valued him not only as a loyal soldier but as an aide, able to write unequivocally. He saluted as Washington retreated, nodding to Alexander before turning to give orders to the others who had began to stir from their rest. Alexander had seen a few winters in New York, but never experienced them properly. Only ceaseless rains or a hint of white on rooftops, never actually felt snow before.

"Is it time?"

Laurens stood behind him, sketchbook pressed tightly against his chest but smiling nonetheless at Alexander. The faint breeze blew a couple of his curls from behind his ears and Hamilton reined in the desire to push them back.

"It is."

 

The blistering winds whipped through the valley like a charge of a thousand horses.

There was no respite, no solemnity to be found in the unforgiving howls. The air had turned from moderate to freezing in a matter of days, cloth had been ripped away from tents and paper scattered over the ground. The men guided the horses carefully, pushing through the wind as some tried to clutch their coats around them to preserve some semblance of warmth. Lafayette was up ahead, shuffling close enough to Washington for him to wrap an arm around him. Laurens huddled close to Alexander, whispering to either himself, Alex, or the wind. Sometimes it sounded like prayer, sometimes like song, Alexander couldn't quite place or recognise what he was saying. 

The bitter cold wasn't the only harsh thing, the wails of the wind were almost impossible to hear above, placing oneself in some kind of purgatory where Alexander could only march and scream yet no one would hear. It was all too easy to lose oneself in the wind. The wind set him on edge, a painful reminder of crueler and more sadistic storms. Yet Laurens was close, brushing up against him when they walked, a calming reminder.  
If only he could just focus on Laurens, and Laurens alone.

Ripples of unease spread through the ranks as the army began to slow, rumours that they had reached their rest for the winter. No snow had yet fallen, but dark clouds hung above the sky like the rolling waves, threatening to burst at any moment. Laurens stood close to Alexander, watching the army prepare for shelter.

"It is a dreary place to see through the winter." John whispered.

The forest surrounding the valley was dark and massive, no fragment of light pierced the canopy. The winding river in the distance shimmered like a snake, a living oil slick against the ground. 

General Washington had promised there would be log huts constructed at the soonest possibility, but that didn't quell Hamiltons unease at spending many nightfalls in tents- with the weather rapidly changing to freezing. Still, if John would be there, and perhaps Lafayette too, it might be more bearable.

 

"We will be desolate enough for this month without the aid from congress."

Hamilton spoke while finishing his pitiful ration supply of bread and stew. Lafayette- despite his all encompassing optimism, did not chew happily.

"The winters of my home will not compare I assume?"

Laurens shook his head, he sat close to Alexander in their tent, the campfires too young to provide lasting heat.

"No, it will be like ice shards growing in your bones. Returning back from Europe to America certainly reminded me of that."

"Then you must write well non? Urge congress for supplies whilst displaying your courage at inhabiting such a place like Valley Forge."

"We can only hope," Alexander sighed and placed his bowl onto the ground, the tent was not pleasantly warm like he'd hoped, but much more preferable to the air outside.

"I must depart then mon amis, the General needs me to plan our lines of defence and I don't want to keep mon coeur waiting."

Lafayette smiled as he tied back his hair again, the dark curls neatly placed behind his ears. A blush of something secret rose in his cheeks as he spoke, the unbidden excitement present in his movements.

"Goodbye Laf, until tomorrow then."

Laurens stood, whispering something to Lafayette before lifting back the tent so he could leave. The wind had stopped for now, but the chill from outside still pervaded their secluded space.

"I truly would not mind staying here if it weren't for the food y'know."

Laurens kept looking out at the sprawling campsite while Alexander spoke, shaking his head.

"And then the blankets, and the tents and the stiff boots. Otherwise it's as much luxury as Paris, isn't it?"

He chuckled, craning his neck to the sky. The freckles on his neck normally hidden under a cravat were exposed, a constellation on his skin. Alexander's fingers fidgeted to tap a tune.

"And don't we deserve such luxury? Fighting for freedom amongst the harsh-"

"Alexander come here."

Laurens half whispered, waving Alex over quickly as he stepped outside. Hamilton rose and followed him, finding Laurens staring out into the darkness.

"Laurens are you alright?"

"Look, Alex. At the sky."

John was staring upwards, hand clutching at Alex's side. It was difficult with the inky sky to see anything, and Alexander almost turned to gaze at his Laurens when something very cold landed on his cheek. His fingers brushed against it, now just water on his face, as more white specks fell from the sky like icing sugar. They melted on the grass, yet fell much faster the longer Alexander stared.

"Is this.. snow?"

Laurens hummed, his hands slowly intertwining with Alexander's. He couldn't breathe. Not with the warmth from John and the cold air around him. The snow was beginning to settle now, forming crystals in John's curls and eyelashes. 

"Thought you might have never seen it before, you always were interested in our stories of the winter."

More notes, a longer and longer tune with each snowflake. Not finished, but far from being just a imperfect melody. Alexander almost didn't feel the cold like this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> Kudos and comments are very much appreciated, and I just might be able to get the next chapter up a little earlier.
> 
> P.S their journey is FAR from over unfortunately, so this brief respite might be the only one for a while.
> 
> Oops ;)


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The thought rang through his mind like a gunshot.
> 
> He was in love with John Laurens.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy!  
> Kudos and comments are absolute appreciated!

He made up his mind the next morning.

John was still asleep, their breathing the only noise in the shallow hours of the day. Alexander laid there, staring at the man in the bed next to him and writing the words in his mind. Nothing seemed to fit perfectly, no word articulate enough to describe his feelings. He may not be his soulmate, but the melody in his heart wasn't telling him no. Wasn't steering him to another course.

So he was going to write to his dear Laurens, tell him everything. 

The thought rang through his mind like a gunshot.

He was in love with John Laurens.

"Alexander why are you working this early? You and and both need rest and neither of us can sleep with your scribbling."

Laurens muttered from the huddle of blankets he was curled under, barely visible as he tried to conserve heat. Alexander paused his writing, only just making out the first sentence.

"Because I have something important to do my Laurens."

John sighed as rolled over, the few freckles on the back of his neck peeking out from under the bedcovers. If John allowed him, Hamilton would draw a map of stars to illustrate those constellations, mark them down forever and hold it close to his heart as the man he loved so fiercely as a distant galaxy- yet whose passion was as bright as the hottest star.

"I have to leave early Hammie, deliver some letters to north of here."

It might be worth postponing his declaration for Laurens to sleep, as an irritated Laurens might not be so patient when receiving his letter. Alexander smiled as John groaned against the candlelight.

"Fine, but you're taking the blame when Washingtons correspondence is unfinished."

Hamilton stretched, shrugging off his coat and curling back under the cool blankets again. Despite the persistent desire in his mind to write, he could suffer that for Johns rest.

"Pfft, you write so fast you've probably already done today's work."

Laurens soon fell asleep again, snoring as he formed some strange human cocoon of blankets. Hamilton closed his eyes, thinking again of what he would write.

 

He was almost finished, just something left like how he cherished Johns mind or adored his eyes. Something sweet to end with. For the first time Alexander had put aside his actual work to write his letter. Normally he would wait until he had finished, then draft up whatever political rebuke he had to make to some newspaper. He was pretty good at that, despite the anonymity of his work, he liked it. 

The letter to John was two pages long, at first it had been over five- but an overwhelming amount of words might lose their meaning or their depth. That couldn't do, so Alexander had limited himself to two, but refining and concentrating his words into something much more powerful. He had skipped out a little extra, just something his could whisper to Laurens late at night when they would lay in the bed together. The thought gave him comfort.

"Have you been writing all day mon ami?"

Lafayette leaned against the doorway, grinning down at Hamilton.

"And have you been shirking your work too I see?"

Alexander turned on his chair, smirking at Lafayette as he stretched out the cramp in his hand.

"Actually his Excellency required me to check that you weren't single-handedly writing yourself into an early grave, neither him, nor I or your Laurens is too keen on that."

"I am responsible enough to manage myself," Alex huffed as Lafayette just laughed.

"Perhaps, but perhaps you shouldn't work enough for five men in one evening Hamilton."

Lafayette walked over to the desk, tucking in loose papers aimlessly as Alexander hummed. It was easy to be amicable with Lafayette.

"What's this?"

Laf held a corner of the letter between his fingers, turning his head to read before Alex snatched it from his grasp.

"My own personal correspondence."

"To your dearest Laurens?"

He held the papers close to his chest, feeling like the inquiring stare of Lafayette could read through the ink itself.

"I... might try to take your advice."

Alexander felt the heat rise to his cheeks a little, the embarrassment of such a reaction only made it worse.

"Oh mon petit lion!" 

Lafayette wrapped his arms around Alexander and held him tightly, the strange cocoon of Frenchman was not unwelcoming, just he was unaccustomed to the delicate French perfume.

"I wish the best of days to my closest friends, I know you won't falter in your attempt Alex. If I have learnt anything about John Laurens."

Outside, faint shouting and tramp of a horse could be heard, barely registering to Alexander as he smiled up at Lafayette.

"I have the most hopeful ambitions, if that can say the least."

A horse whinnied and someone knocked firmly on the cabin door, Lafayette turned back briefly before squeezing Hamiltons hand.

"Your ambitions fly far above the tallest cities Alexander, I could expect no less for such a man."

Lafayette spun around and opened the door, only to allow Tilghman to burst in from the bitter cold outside. He was pale, and with the door open the sounds from outside were much louder than before, cries of someone calling for a doctor.  
He cleared his throat with an audience of confused stares. The noise outside died down as he became silent.

"John Laurens has been shot."

 

A deafening crack rang through the air.  
It made him jump, shaking his nerves as the quiet that engulfed him was suffocating.

"Mama?"

She coughed a little in the kicked-up dust in the road, looking down to Alexander's wide eyes.

"It's alright little one, nothing will harm us."

He held close to her skirts, watching as the man took a step back as the pistol in his hand smoked. He looked afraid, like the rage that had consumed him before had dissipated in an instant. His cheeks were red, and his hand shook as the woman behind him wept. Sobs racked her body like violent tremors, her golden curls tangled in her hands.

It had happened so fast, the man had stormed out of the bar and grabbed the man waiting by the docks, shouting something Alex didn't understand. He had held out a gold necklace too, thrusting it in the mans face as his anger boiled over. Then the woman had run over and begged him to stop, to forget what he had heard and for gods sake put down the gun.

The deafening crack silenced all that.

The man fell on his back, hand still outstretched to the woman's. Some just stared, others shook their heads and muttered:

"That's what happens to men like that."

And the woman just wept, her tears falling on the dry dust as her husband yanked her by the arm and dragged her away.

Alexander didn't know then that she was crying at the melody she had known all her life, suddenly being silenced.

 

Alexander paced by the entrance to the medics tent. Counting his breaths before he could see him. The air was freezing, and his breath formed icy fog. The slow effacement of the rolling sky and darkening clouds made the world feel like it was underwater. He was trapped under a breaking wave with an undercurrent pulling him away, with no hope of swimming up towards the surface. Laurens made him breathe, made him think and his heart beat, without he was drowning. In reaching for the sun Icarus plummets into the ocean with a halo of melted wax, Alexander cursed how he had fallen so hard in reaching for his sunshine.

He heard there had been a British scout mapping through unfamiliar area, and spotting blue uniform took a lucky shot and hit. He heard John was shot through the leg, not fatal but serious enough to warrant infection control for two weeks. He heard John had ridden all the way back before collapsing.

All he could hear now was Johns agonised cries as the doctors tried to pull the bullet out.

He cursed the tent walls for being so thin he could hear his Laurens but not have him in his grasp to comfort. Lafayette had stayed with Alex a little, but very reluctantly left after Washington called him away.

Laurens was silent again, and a doctor emerged from the tent with flecks of blood on his coat.

"The wound's dressed and clean, but it might be several days before he can walk on it. If it doesn't get infected. At least it was a clean shot."

Alex nodded, eyes drawn to the dim glow of candlelight inside the tent. Laurens had been injured before in battle, a couple nicks from a bayonet and one particularly bad slash that left him sleeping on his front for three weeks. In each moment Alexander's heart had stilled, but he breathed again when Laurens smiled or winced through the pain and limped over to his side. John had been injured, and gone all the way with no one, Alexander hadn't been there. And it burned at him like a flame.

 

As Hamilton entered the tent closed behind him, the only light source was the small candle by the bedside. Laurens lay on his back, eyes closed as he struggled to breathe slowly. His leg was tied with white bandage, already with little red spots seeping through. 

Alexander kneeled by the bed, his slight fingers wrapping around Johns clenched fist. Immediately he flinched and opened his eyes.

"Alex?"

John looked tired, sweat on his forehead and a pained expression of confusion as Alexander spoke.

"Laurens, how are you feeling?"

"Like I've been shot through the leg hammie, like an iron-shoed horse has decided to rest its weight on my thigh."

Laurens winced again, another spark of pain causing him to close his eyes and clench his hands. He wouldn't let Alexander intertwine them, only pushing his fingers away.

"I'm sorry John, that I wasn't there for you."

"Why," John spoke through his teeth "would you say that?"

"What?"

Alexander paused in his ministrations of stroking patterns on the back of Johns hand. Laurens looked away, not opening his eyes to see Alexander's worried ones.

"I don't need you, not to look after me like that. You're a good friend Alex, but you couldn't of helped me."

Laurens took hold of Alexander's hand and lifted it to his lips,

"I don't want... I don't want this."

His lips were soft, and however brief it was the touch of his hands and lips would be forever burned and branded into his skin- Alexander was sure of it. Johns pain eased for a moment, like he had eased a struggle in his mind, the Laurens released his hand and slowly turned over in the bed away from Alex.

"Goodnight Hamilton."

"Goodnight Laurens."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops wrote some angst.
> 
> Next weeks might not be posted on time as I'm travelling, but the chapter will be written and posted within a couple days.
> 
> Things are not looking good for these two XD
> 
> Update: absolutely won't be able to post as scheduled. Earlier at will be Wednesday, thanks everyone for the supportive comments.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The night is cold, while everything else seems so unbearably hot and suffocating.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait! My trip away was extended a little unexpectedly but I'm here with more sadness!
> 
> Also there will be a new chapter up tomorrow to make up for it, and now that I've said that I must do it.
> 
> All comments and kudos and greatly appreciated!  
> Enjoy!

Hamilton stood numb by the outside of the tent, the cold breeze flickering through the night air chilling him. His hands felt stiff, whether from cold or shock he did not know.

John Laurens had kissed him.

John Laurens had told him that his affections were the last thing he wanted.

But John Laurens had kissed him.

Even now Alexander could still feel those plump lips on he back of his hand, like he was some maiden to be courted. The way Laurens had closed his eyes in relief before frowning and pulling back, he must of hated it for such a reaction. 

Alex walked briskly to the nearby tent, clenching his fist as the memories of the kiss jostled uncomfortably in his mind like turbulent waves. Hopefully Lafayette would still be awake, wouldn't mind Hamiltons intrusion late at night. Why had Alexander been so foolish- to indulge his senses in surge of emotion and hope he should have never believed could come true.

 

"Lafayette?"

The marquis sat at his desk, but immediately rose at the sound of Hamiltons voice. He looked tired, something Alexander hadn't seen much of on his usually cheery features.

"Alexander is he alright? Is John awake, did you speak much? Does he know?"

Lafayette firmly grasped at his shoulders, frowning as Alexander didn't speak. His eyes were wide, insecurity clear as he struggled with what to do.

"Do you want to sit down hammie?"

Alex nodded, letting himself be guided to the bed as it was large enough to accommodate the both of them. Lafayette rested a hand on his arm, nudging him to speak while looking at him with an imploring gaze.

"Laurens will be fine, he wasn't hurt seriously and should be able to walk properly in a couple weeks."

His worried expression softened a little, yet remained as Lafayette still puzzled at Alexander's resigned tone.

"What has you so upset mon ami? What happened?"

"Laurens... he," Hamilton stumbled over his words, "he doesn't..."

Lafayette held Hamilton a little closer, and Alex leaned into the comfort of his arms.

"He doesn't love me Laf, he told me."

Without realising it tears began to well up in his eyes, threatening to spill over as he spoke. Alex nestled into Lafayette's jacket to try and stifle them.

"He kissed my hand Lafayette, told me he didn't want me."

"Alex."

"I should have expected it though, I was a fool enough to pretend I couldn't."

"Alexander."

Hamilton reared back, tears springing up and down his cheeks. It felt to hot in here, too constricting, yet he couldn't stop himself.

"Nobody would love me, especially not him. It's unlawful- a sin for Christ's sake! I don't have a soulmate so why would he settle for less, no, less than nothing to be with me!"

Lafayette looked panicked, and fell forward to hug Hamilton tightly. His breathing was too fast, the room starting to get smaller, so Lafayette gently rubbed his back as the sobs wracked through his thin frame.

"I thought-"

"I know Alexander, and I thought this matter of emotions would be simpler. But it seems your dear Laurens isn't like that."

Alex tried to interrupt but was hushed by him.

"I doubt no that he is very afraid Alexander. It seems neither of us know how he feels, but he does want you to be there for him, I trust in that."

Lafayette released him a little, letting Alex breathe and not be ashamed of his tears. Lafayette knew he would be consumed with embarrassment, something he himself was intricately familiar with.

"Stay with me for a while mon ami, I can tell you a story of Paris if that would entertain?"

Alexander nodded, counting his breaths as Lafayette spoke. The distraction helped.

 

"Are you alright sir?"

John turned away from the patio, facing a young woman dressed in peach and yellow who looked inquisitively at him. She blushed slightly at his gaze.

"Yes, fine. Just distracted I suppose."

He turned to look back, but the woman kept speaking:

"I understand, I don't much enjoy these parties very much myself. When I become a host, I doubt I'd have any at all."

He laughed slightly while she beamed, the sunlight catching in her dark curls. She was eager, pretty no doubt, but it was a fruitless journey she was travelling.

"So Mr Laurens, what would you ask your future wife to do? Judging how we both have escaped it, I believe we share the same opinion."

Inside the home, Laurens could hear guests chattering and laughing and their dull conversations. It was always the same, the men who were there to pride themselves, the women who gossiped and the young ladies and men who flitted about each other like fireflies dream to a infinite number of flames.

Being the hosts son, Laurens had managed to hide from most of the festivities, yet it seemed his solidarity was over too soon.

"Hmm, I suppose so."

John shuffled away a little from her, biting down on his lip as the tension rose. She persisted, laying a hand on his side.

"Would you care to brave the inside again for me? Perhaps we can get a drink and talk a little more?"

John smiled at her, then looking back out to the garden. The tulips were beginning to bloom; petals of red, yellow and pinks. Lazy bees flew on the ease of warm breezes.

"Maybe another time Miss."

She looked a little dejected, but lifted herself up again and winked before walking back.

"Well you know who to look for Mr Laurens."

 

The next morning Hamilton dressed quickly, ate and walked to the Generals tent all within the hour of waking. Laurens wasn't awake, not due to return to his tent until that evening, but Lafayette nodded at him as he entered the medics tent.

"Your excellency," Hamilton acknowledged Washington as he drew up his chair to the well worn desk.

"Hamilton, it is barely seven and you are already buzzing like a hummingbird, how do you manage it?"

Washington seemed to be in one of his better moods, smiling quietly down at Alex while looking over various reports and letters. It was like this that Washington would talk of topics other than the war.

"Why put your mind to any task when you cannot fulfil it to the best of your abilities, or at least you try to sir."

"An admirable phrase, yet I suppose it might be the motivation behind your incessant working?"

Alexander smiled, "Very perceptive as always sir."

Washington walked back to his desk, littered neatly with maps, pens and unfinished letters.

"Hamilton, I need you to draft a reply to Major General Schuyler, something less formal than military if you may."

"What about sir?"

"That we will attend the Schuyler ball."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thinking of how to make this fic angstier is great, but writing it? I'm just as upset as you are.
> 
> Well, it's not looking good.
> 
> Share your pain in the comments <3


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emerald and snow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And I came through on my promise!  
> Expect more regular updates and perhaps other focus being posted.
> 
> All kudos and comments are greatly appreciated.
> 
> Enjoy!

Many candles were scattered around the tent, providing just enough light to study the map on the table in detail. General Washington rested his hands on the sturdy wood, looking from one member to the next in the cramped space. The snow outside was become more abundant, heavier as the wind brought with it colder air. Hamilton pitied the man guarding the tent outside, whose coat was firmly wrapped around his chest and buried his hands in his pockets. A couple other aides were there as well as Hamilton, Lafayette standing confidently beside Washington. The bitter cold drafts were an unwelcome reminder of their desolation.

"The scouts reports of the British leave us in a difficult position. They dare not advance in this weather, but we cannot leave this area without at the very least being seen. It is not entirely sheltered, but we have a river to the north and firewood on our borders- Valley Forge is unpleasant but practical."

Hamilton nodded, the thick oil slick of forests surrounding the camp was sheltering, but the wind whipped through the valley taking loose tents with it. Lafayette looked as grim as a man can be with a smile, but occasionally darted his eyes back to Hamilton. It was a harsh winter to be certain.

As the others spoke Alexander recalled the freezing weather when Laurens had rejoined him in the tent, he was almost blue and shivering but spoke nothing of it when he curled up in his bed. The nights had been a lot quieter, their friendly chatter being substituted by cold remarks or observations. Laurens was still in pain, he winced when pulling on his boots and needed help standing up after lying down- but didn't look Alexander in the eye when he grasped onto his arm for support.

A blast of cold air enveloped the room, the frozen guard lifting back the tent as the man entered. The others only turned for a moment, cowering down into their coats as the comfortable warmth obtained from candles and shared body heat was lost.

Laurens huddled in a corner, a thin spattering of snow on his coat and hair. The snowflakes reflected the amber candlelight, giving the impression that his hair was sparkling. He walked with little less of a limp now however he still winced as his leg complained in the cold. Alex wanted to help, wanted to soothe him and warm him, but the ever present echo of John's words made him flinch.

He doesn't want you.

"That is it for now, Lieutenant Colonel Laurens thank your father for his generous donations of blankets and timber- his kindness does not go unheard."

Washington waved his hand in dismissal, most took that as a starting pistol to the brisk walk in the snow flurry back to the relative warmth of a fire or bed- if any warmth could truly be found in the frozen land. Lafayette looked reassuring at Alex before quickly turning back to the General- eager for his attention while Alex and John stood uneasy. 

"Mon coeur, may I ask about-"

Lafayette's cheeks grew a little more peach in his closeness to Washington, and the General actually seemed rather relaxed as listened to the excitable young Frenchman accidentally switch between French and English. Washington smiled a little at each apology Laf gave with the occasional French slip-up. Lafayette was almost as tall as he was, yet still beamed at him like a sunflower would crane its flowers to the gentle summer sun.

As Hamilton collected his papers Laurens tugged at his sleeve, hushed whispers to not disturb Lafayette and Washington.

"Alexander, can I speak to you for a moment?"

He nodded, stepping aside to let John move closer. To be fair, he didn't think the pair would notice anyway- Lafayette was too busy leaning against the great table with his arms outstretched on a map to the bemused smile of Washington to see them.

"I wish to... apologise for what I did. It was unwanted I know, and I may have spoken too dear and carelessly to my heart in my pain. Alexander, you are a very great friend to me, one I would be most distraught to lose. I do not wish for that to misunderstood."

John's eyes flittered down to his hand, then back. Slowly, as he spoke he held Alex's hand in his, squeezing it as he finished. He looked so very tired.

"I understand. I only ever want to aid you the best I can. My sentiments remain the same Laurens."

Laurens nodded, smiling.

"I'm glad we can agree, if you wouldn't mind I will retire back to the tent. My leg aches like hell."

Alex and John laughed, he leaned a little on Hamilton as he left- the familiar rose blush from the cold snow rising in his cheeks before he even walked out of the tent.

"Do you know how to play any instruments sir? I must admit I am a little... how you say? Useless, in all forms of music."

Alexander smirked as Lafayette chattered, he seem pleased- yet his fingers tapped a staccato rhythm against the polished oak.

The various letters on strategy and positions had become a little displaced, and Hamilton fumbled with cold fingers to organise them. A scrap of paper poked though, revealing neat cursive writing on one side.

'Tent, gift, come alone- Lafayette.'

 

Lafayette grinned at Hamilton as he held out the small black box. Alexander tried to ignore the snowmelt currently soaking his back and shoes, but Lafayette's smile was warm enough to endure it.

"You didn't need to..."

"But mon ami what is most important is that I wanted to. Something to cheer you up non?"

The box had a French label stamped into the leather, and felt smooth under his fingers. Opening it, the light reflected off a shining emerald ribbon- its rich colour almost out of place. Running it though his fingers, the ribbon was silky and strong, colour perfect for his tan skin and dark hair.

"Practical and beautiful, like I aspire to be. You tie up your hair with any string you can find, I can accept that no longer."

In the corner of the ribbon was half a circle it seemed, seen right into the edge of the fabric. He could make out no discernible shale from it, but Alexander adored it.

"Thank you Lafayette," Alex hugged him, clutching at the ribbon gently "thank you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man Lafayette's love life is sad, no spoilers, but looking at the timeline makes me upset.
> 
> Tell about your thoughts or if you just want to yell at me do so in the comments!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Schuyler Ball.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew this was longer than usual and I am tired BUT I very much enjoyed writing this. SO MUCH CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT
> 
> If you enjoyed please kudos or comment, it means the world to me!

When he was in the Caribbean, Alexander used to dream of the hundreds of stars that scattered the sky. Pinpricks of light in midnight fabric, so clear with the faint candlelight of the houses. In the evening heat Alex could imagine joining the stars with a pen, or finding a map of their constellations and lying it flat on the earth- a reflection of the sky above it. When he travelled to New York, the sky was different- or rather the space in between him and the sky was. Brighter, more smoke and clouds, like layers of smothering tissue paper that blurred the sky. But it still felt the same, reassuring that even if he left everything behind from home, the sky was always the same.

The same sky hung over him as he walked along the frost-covered trail, following the couple men holding torches at the front. His cravat was scrubbed so clean it was almost bleached white, mud picked off uniform and boots polished. Washingtons best, or at least Washingtons cleanest and least likely to start a fight at a ball.

"Music and lights and dancing! It seems like my first home, doesn't it?"

Lafayette grinned at Hamilton as he walked, no bounced on the dirt path. His smile was infectious, excitement rolling off him in waves. The other men walking seemed to agree, singing or laughing as the faint house in the distance grew brighter and nearer.

"Well our American ways must have no comparison to the French soirée, shall we call this candle ball amongst blood and snow the Versailles d'Amérique?"

Laughed giggled, humming along to the others.

"You Americans could learn to love a la français and perhaps then we can discuss your taste in music."

Lafayette seemed happy, if not a little uneasy about something. Hamilton's gaze drew away from the man ahead of him, his uniform fitting shapely and fine curls bouncing as he walked. Alex could see John's freckles on the back of his neck if he squinted, only hidden by dark rich hair that was-

Wait.

His hair was tied up with a light blue ribbon, similar to the colour of forget-me-nots. The creamy fabric shone in the moonlight, glimmers of almost pearl-like blue. And at the corner, a familiar semi-circle that now that Alex realised it had a pair, looked awfully familiar to the shape of half a heart.  
His eyes widened as he realised.

"Lafayette."

"Oui Hammie?"

"Motherfucker."

Alex could feel his cheeks burning in embarrassment at being paired like this, anger at Lafayette's cheek and ignorance that this was another glaring sign to anyone who looked close enough, and they blushed with something else entirely. Lafayette burst out laughing and put a hand on Alexander's shoulder.

"I was wondering when you would notice mon ami, stylish is it not?"

"I stand by my previous statement."

Laurens didn't seem to notice their hushed bickering, culminating in Alexander hitting Lafayette quite hard in the shoulder.

Soon, the grand house was in full view. Candlelight spilling from the windows and reflecting on the wet grass. Once inside, the entrance was brilliantly warm- Alexander passed thick scarlet curtains and tall wax candles as they walked through the hallway. He could already hear the music, eminatiting louder and louder sigh every step from the large ballroom. If it weren't for Lafayette and John, he would of very easily been overwhelmed by this- the heat and sound and movement was so intensely captivating. It was no wonder at places like these that men and women fell in love.

"It's wonderful." Lafayette mused, smiling at a passing lady as the trio walked along the fringe of the dances.

"Doesn't feel like a war." Alexander murmured.

Laurens was silent, walking closer to Alex as they made their way through the people. So many in fine clothes, brightly coloured skirts or spotless dinner jackets- their blue almost seemed odd.

"Reminds me of France, though perhaps less..." Lafayette bit his lip, turning back to Alex and looked at him for help.

"Sophisticated?"

"Exactly! Although I am enjoying the dance here, not at all particular in how you do it."

He frowned, memories of embarrassment and shame rising up, although quickly swatted away by Alex squeezing his arm and smiling.

"Laurens, does this seem similar to what dances you've been to?"

Alex turned, met with the backs of a group of women chattering, and no Laurens in sight.

"It seems John might agree there Alexander, didn't he dislike such events?"

Hamilton frowned, but it would be futile to bump through the guests just to find one rogue John Laurens, he just didn't want to be found.

Fine.

"Lafayette, I believe you should show me then how the French dance."

"I have improved since," Lafayette prodded Alex, walking forward together towards the centre of the ballroom, "besides it would be a joy to prove you wrong."

Lafayette twirled on his feet, catching eyes with a young woman and immediately walking over and bending down to kiss her hand. The mixture of French charm and Lafayette's comforting smile soon had the pair moving along to the pace of the music- occasionally Laf would twirl the woman and wink at Hamilton.

 

"He is impossible, isn't he Hamilton?"

Alex almost jumped, glancing to his right as Washington stared out at the couple. He smiled fondly, gaze trailing Lafayette as he swayed and turned. 

"I don't know how he does it every time sir, quite impossible."

Lafayette didn't notice Washington there, the man clasped his hands behind his back and nodded to the odd passerby.

"Hmm, he most certainly makes the most of his standing."

"Like a handsome young man driven by the desire for freedom from foreign shores wouldn't make any lady swoon. Lafayette uses charm to his advantage."

Alex laughed softly, turning to look at Washington. He still stared at Lafayette, eyes too full of meaning for Alexander to decipher. In the briefest of moments, the stone facade crumbled a little, as he spoke in a whisper.

"He certainly did."

Alexander believed he wasn't supposed to hear that, so said nothing as Lafayette bowed and walked the young woman back to her group of friends- they giggled and smiled prettily as he talked.

"Enjoy yourself tonight Alexander, I don't know if we might get another like it."

Alex nodded as Washington walked away, he watched him disappear into the crowd curiously.

 

Lafayette was still talking, and now the group of musicians began to play something slower- more somber as Hamilton began to weave his way to find Laf. Somehow he had lost a man several infuriating inches taller than him. Alexander jumped back as a couple pushed in front of him, and he felt himself bump into someone else. 

"Excuse me!"

He spun around, trying to smile apologetically.

"My sincerest apologies Miss."

The woman was tall, with long curled black hair that fell around her shoulders. She held herself with an air of confidence, intelligence, and was currently frowning at Hamilton.

"Thank you, although I feel sorry for your poor partner who must suffer from your clumsy feet."

Oh he liked this woman.

"None to speak of, although I do have a reputation for standing well under a lady's eye."

She smirked, apparently taking the innuendo in good spirits.

"Then I have to pity your non-existent partner even more, if I man can stand but not walk."

"You strike me as a woman who has never been satisfied."

Alexander raised an eyebrow as she smiled.

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean. You forget yourself."

He stepped closer, her eyes almost level with his.

"You're like me. I'm never satisfied."

"Is that right?" The woman spoke quietly, their stillness strange as the crowd danced around them.

"I have never been satisfied."

He reached forward, bringing her hand to his lips. She froze a little.

"My name is Angelica Schuyler."

Hamilton paused, so this was one of the infamous Schuyler sisters. It was a pleasure to meet her.

"Alexander Hamilton." Angelica quickly glanced away, then held out her hand.

"Where's your family from?"

"Unimportant. There's a million things I haven't done but just you wait." 

Angelica led him through the dancers until the people thinned, the air was less oppressive from the heat of burning candles.

"So I've heard sir, Washingtons insufferably brilliant aide am I right?"

Alex chuckled, "The very one."

"I was under the impression that Alexander Hamilton had no tact in acting polite, yet here we are."

She looked away again, brushing down the folds in her bronze dress.

"And I believed that the astute Angelica Schuyler could not lower her standards to converse with a secretary like me."

Angelica laughed, wonderful accompaniment to the melody.

"Then you are very incorrect sir, and about to become even more so."

Alexander didn't answer, only turning to see two young women walk over, proceeding to smile curiously at him and whisper furiously to Angelica.

"My sisters, Elizabeth and Margarita Schuyler."

"That's Eliza and Peggy to you."

The smaller woman, with the bright yellow dress that almost reflected her personality smirked at Alex- speaking down to him like a girl who knew her sisters would defend her in anything.

For once in his life, Alexander felt quite frightened at the mercy of three powerful women.

"A pleasure to meet you." Alexander shifted a little, Angelica smiled at her sister.

"Thank you for all your service." The third sister was beautiful, Eliza Schuyler was one of the kindest women he had ever heard of, and blushed as Alexander kissed her hand.

"If it takes fighting a war for us to meet, it will have been worth it."

"Shall we leave you to it?" Peggy giggled.

"It would be very disappointing to me to see that you really are as clumsy as you first made out Hamilton, or could you dance with my sister to prove it?"

Angelica smirked, a challenge that Alexander couldn't refuse.

"Why Miss Schuyler I would be blessed with your attentions for just a moment, please pardon your sister- I don't believe she knows of who she speaks."

"I would be honoured."

Hamilton took Eliza's arm, leading them both towards the centre of the ballroom. The light was dimmer but she looked no less entrancing, blue dress shimmering as she twirled.

"I am very glad to have met you Mr Hamilton."

Another couple steps to the music.

"I hope I can live up to your expectations, I understand your sisters spoke of me?"

"Nothing short of idle prattle, especially Peggy. I love her with all my heart but her mouth seems to run away with her sometimes."

They laughed as Eliza leaned closer into his arms.

"Miss Schuyler I can't believe that."

"Then you must be grossly uninformed then."

Eliza was comfortable to talk to, smart and sweet and just witty enough to make Alexander smile. Her blue dress spun elegantly as she twirled, so familiar to him.

And then he remembered.

"Eliza it has been a pleasure, mention me to your sisters as being graceful enough to dance."

"When we meet again Alexander Hamilton."

"Of course," Alex smiled as Eliza walked away.

 

The melody ended, and as the couples dispersed Alex spotted the familiar tall Frenchman who had escaped him earlier. Lafayette was leaning against the wall, head bobbing to a song that wasn't playing. Alex startled him by grabbing his arm.

"Lafayette, have you seen Laurens yet?"

He shook his head, "Non I don't believe so. Not since we arrived."

"I should have asked General Washington when I spoke to him, I would very much like to talk to John."

Lafayette looked away from the dancers and frowned.

"When did you speak to the General, I wasn't aware of him."

"While you danced Laf," Alexander nudged him "and while you showed me your superior charm."

"What?"

Lafayette turned completed to Hamilton, looking down quite severely at him. His eyes were wide.

"Lafayette what's wrong?"

"He was there while I was dancing, what did he say?"

Lafayette was visibly frozen, hanging off every word.

"We spoke of your charming ability, nothing much, why?"

He looked down, running his hand over his forehead as he spoke.

"Oh no, no this is not what I wanted at all. He must of thought I was..."

Lafayette trailed off, muttering to himself in French. Alexander saw how his hands tensed and reached out slowly not to surprise him.

"Lafayette are you alright?"

He held his hand tightly, and Lafayette caught his breath before speaking.

"Yes, for now I am. I'm sorry Hamilton, I didn't mean to worry you like that."

He spoke quickly, clearly not believing the words he spoke. Lafayette always talked with so much confidence and belief that it was crystal clear to see when he wavered.

"No, no I am not accepting that. You have cared for me so much so let me help you Laf, talk to me."

"Can we talk after tonight? I don't believe I can at this moment."

Another squeeze of the hand, and Lafayette looked back to Hamilton.

"Of course." Alex smiled reassuringly at Lafayette, whose worried look softened.

"Thank you."

Alexander nodded, glancing around again for any sign of Laurens. 

"I need to go find Laurens Lafayette, will you be alright?"

"Oui yes go find your Laurens, I think he needs you more than I do tonight."

 

The sprawling corridors of the house were littered with the occasional couple who hid behind curtains or doorways, or the servants who hurried along the floor to the ballroom. It was quieter here, more separate from the dancing and music. Laurens couldn't be in the ballroom, as it was too hot and crowded for Laurens to enjoy or Hamilton to search. All he was searching for was a familiar freckled face, curled hair, or even blue ribbon.

Alexander turned into a drawing connected to another through a panelled door, it was empty save for some fine embroidered lounges and bookcase. He sighed, shutting the door and walked towards the bookcase. The Schuyler's had a good taste, not particularly his favourites but enough to savour the mind. The books were bound with tough fabric, running his fingers over the pages Alexander listened to the silence, save for the sounds of the night outside.

Alex began to flick through the book, some French romance Lafayette would heartily enjoy no doubt, and the soft notes of a piano filtered through the panel door. Alex paused, listening to the delicate tune as it's melody rose and fell like the swell of waves. He placed the book back carefully not to make any noise, and quietly pulled back the door an inch.

John sat at the piano stool, his fingers drifting from one key to another effortlessly. His hair had fallen a little out of place, but the blue ribbon remained shimmering in the candlelight. His face was furrowed in concentration like he was trying hard to remember a tune. Alexander pulled back the door further, squeezing through and silently walking closer to the piano. The music was so bright, so fragile in its rawness that Alex just listened to the melody- gazing at John playing it. When he finished Laurens tapped his fingers against the keys, perhaps trying to memorise it.

"I didn't know you could play."

Laurens jumped on his seat, swivelling around to face Alexander.

"That was beautiful Laurens."

"Thank you, I don't often have the chance but I am able."

He shifted a little uncomfortably, biting down on his lip. Alex came closer and looked over to study the keys.

"My mother tried to teach me, we couldn't afford a piano but she would draw out the keys and show me which ones to press. I was hopeless."

John chuckled.

"I didn't think that Alexander Hamilton was hopeless at anything."

Well," Alex felt himself blush at Johns laughter, "now you know my secrets."

Laurens was quiet, looking away from Alex for a while. His hands still rested beautifully on the piano.

"I could teach you."

"What?"

Laurens spoke quietly, shyly, not looking at Alex.

"Like your mother did, I could teach you again. If you'd like."

Hamilton smiled, Laurens turning to face him with hopeful eyes.

"I would. Very much so."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Look forward to more soon.
> 
>  
> 
> ALSO the historical inaccuracy is needed here, as the ball happened after the Laurens/Lee dual but guess who forgot to research that before writing?
> 
> <3


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It felt like a prayer and it was sinful.
> 
> And he's his soulmate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for everyone whose been reading and commenting on the series so far! Comments really motivate me to write.
> 
> Kudos or comments are appreciated,  
> Enjoy!

"...And that's middle C, right where your index finger is."

Alexander had felt like he was dreaming, desperately trying not to slip into the euphoria of Johns hands on his to remember it all, write it down and lock it away to revisit again in hushed nights. Now, lying in his bed with Laurens asleep in the bed next to him, Alex intertwined his hands together like a prayer- remembering how gentle and soft Laurens was. Slowly and carefully guiding his hand, Alex blindly following. It felt like a prayer and it was sinful.

Laurens had stood close, chest pressed against his back as he leaned over to play something for Alex. Alexander's heart beat so quick it was sure that if there wasn't the gentle music from the piano it would have been audible, a hummingbird's heartbeat. They were there for probably half an hour, judging by the chimes of the midnight bell and the men's slurred speech calling out for them. The memory still burned fiercely in his mind, John's various accidental brushes against him memorised that the notes in a song. The melody in his mind had gotten stronger too, lasting at least a minute or so when he tried to hum it. A lullaby when he couldn't sleep.

Alexander shuffled himself further under the blankets, his eyes drifting shut as he listened to the tune in his mind- replaying the memories. He clutched to them as tightly as he could, all the faces of John Laurens he had seen- how calm and sweet he was curled up asleep or his frustrated passion that came with each letter of rejection or postponing of his ideas. John Laurens was a flame that Alexander refused to let go of, no matter how much it burnt. 

 

 

Laurens turned over into his side, still nuzzling into the bedcovers as they balled around him. It was barely morning, peach sunlight filtering though the flimsy curtains. It was darker under the covers, warmer and altogether much more preferable.

"John?"

He hummed, peaking out from his blanket pile at Francis who watched him in amusement from the doorway.

"It's six o clock."

John yawned, "so?"

"John Laurens I am not your mother, I do not have to wake and drag you from your bed."

Laurens smiled, teasingly dipping his head below the covers until only his eyes and the curls in his hair were visible. Francis visibly sighed.

"The world is not awake, so I am not awake. The Geneva cold dispels me from leaving this comfort, and besides we both might be much warmer if you were under these blankets."

"You are a child."

He grinned even more as Francis began to strip himself of his shoes and coat, walking over to Laurens quickly. John moved to the side, the brief cold stifled by another body. Francis covered them both with blankets, his gaze meeting Johns.

"Perhaps you are right." He mumbled, pushing back a lock of Johns curls from his face. Laurens felt the blush on his cheeks rise and closed his eyes again- listening to their soft breathing.

"Can you..?"

"Of course," Laurens felt himself fall back into slumber as Francishummed a tune, one so seemingly familiar yet forgotten- like a rhythm without a melody.

 

The snow crunched under Hamilton and Laurens boots as they walked together to the supply huts, following the faint smell of food in the dry air. Out of the last nights attendants, perhaps only Hamilton, Laurens and a select few had fared well. Despite the clouded sky leaving most of the camp in shadow, men still stumbled around squinting and groaning. They didn't cheer up either when they ate, black pepper and tripe broth wasn't the most comforting of meals. Laurens sat next to Alex, shuffling close in the cool air and speaking quietly.

"Thank you, for last night. I'm glad you found me."

Laurens looked away as he spoke, "It brought back too many memories there, it seemed too much far too soon and I needed to be anywhere but there. But I'm happy that you were the one to look for me Alexander."

Hamilton's hands quivered, but bundled up in his coat that could easily be explained as the cold. So could the red tint on John's cheeks or how their hips touched- so intimately close in such an open space.

"I'm glad I did." Hamilton spoke honestly, finding it difficult to admit his feelings so easily. It wasn't a skill he had learnt, especially since the harsh world isn't kind to orphan immigrants. It was easier to hide them away.

Hamilton and Laurens sat in silence for a while, still in the crisp air and listening to the awakening bustle of the camp. Men came and went, in varying states of dishevelment. Laurens still had his hair tied back with the blue ribbon, and Alexander looked at it curiously.

"What?"

"That ribbon."

"Oh, from Lafayette. He said he had a gift for me, a couple days after I was shot. It's an interesting design."

"It is." Alexander bit down on his lip. He still could t believe Lafayette had the sneak to pair them that way, and worse, how well the blue complimented John's tanned skin.

"How was Lafayette? He seemed so excited about the ball. I expect he impressed many there."

Laurens winked, and laughed as Alexander chuckled.

"At first it seems," Alex panned his head, "but he was put off by something. He wasn't quite himself."

Laurens rose, tugging at Alexander's sleeve, "I haven't seen him all morning, we should find him."

The sprawl of sparse huts and canvas tents were not so easy to navigate, especially as some seemed to similar to one another that it was almost too simple to stumble into a bed that wasn't your own. Lafayette's tent was a little apart from the others, canvas still drawn shut from the daylight. Pulling it back, the light swept through the darkness like a bayonet, a slice of clarity in the shadows.

"Laurens? Hamilton? What are you doing here?"

Lafayette was curled up on his bed, but jumped onto his feet. His wide eyes met Hamilton's, and in an instant Alexander knew he was still very hurt from last night.

"We were concerned about you Laf, you haven't been here all morning. And Alex says you weren't yourself last night. Are you alright?"

Lafayette smiled, walking up to Laurens and holding his hand.

"I assure you I am fine. I suppose it is how different things are here sometimes, it can be overwhelming. I feel... homesick?"

Laurens nodded, squeezing his hand.

"Okay, but do not hesitate to confide in us. We are your friends, and would do anything to ease your discomfort."

"We only wish you to be satisfied Lafayette." Alex spoke quietly.

He smiled, but his eyes pleaded at Alex silently. Laurens began to leave, pulling back the canvas further for Alexander to duck under.

"Alex, I need your help. Writing a letter. If you could?"

Laurens glanced at Alexander, concerned.

"Now?"

"Please."

"Go on," Laurens smiled, "I will notify Washington that you two will come later."

The canvas dropped from his fingers, and the darkness engulfed Hamilton. Lafayette embraced him, squeezing his eyes shut and quietly sniffling into his chest.

"I'm sorry, I hope I didn't-"

"You're alright Laf, you're alright."

Alexander led Lafayette to the side of the bed, sitting next to him as he wrung his hands and stared at the ground.

"I don't mean to burden you, but you did want to know from last night..."

Alexander shuffled closer, "It's fine I just want to-"

"The General. He's my soulmate."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops.
> 
> The more I hurt them, the more I love them. And boy is what Lafayette about say showing how much I love him.
> 
> Still, the piano scene with Laurens and Alex very cute.
> 
> <3


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "What do you expect? Life is like the flame of a lamp; when there is no more oil—zest! It goes out, and it is all over."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. I unexpectadly contracted appendicitis, and I've been sleeping most of the past week. Hey, at least I got this chapter out! Hopefully I should be more regular, but your comments and kudos certainly help with recovery.
> 
> Thanks!

"What?"

"General Washington, he is my soulmate. I have never been more certain."

Lafayette closed his eyes, biting at his bottom lip worryingly. 

"How do you know? What is it like?"

"Like the moment that an orchestra plays together Alexander, perfectly succinct and in harmony. I don't have much words you know to describe it. He shares the same song as me."

Hamilton thought of the General, George Washington- he had never heard him hum even when they both were exhausted in the early mornings writing. He was married.

"I heard it when we were marching here, we rested at the hillside, do you remember?"

Alexander nodded.

"He is beautiful, in all ways. I admired him as soon as I met him Alexander, but I was improper- foreign to your kind of companionship. He didn't know, I doubt he does."

Lafayette's breath hitched a little, and Alexander felt a shiver run through Laf. 

"For most of my life I believed I had a soulmate, the one who could accompany my song so perfectly. I know now that's no longer true."

"Lafayette you can't, not from what you've said to me. You have George, you have Adrienne- people who love you dearly."

"Exactly, I do not have a soulmate. I have two."

 

"Two?! It's not possible Alex!"

Laurens laughed as Alexander poked him, "I can survive just fine on two hours of sleep thank you."

"I can hardly believe you Alexander Hamilton, you carry big enough bags under your eyes I might believe you were travelling back to New York with your every possession."

Lafayette smiled as Alexander winked at John, "Many call me unbelievable. Remarkable, a prodigy-"

"A fool who doesn't know what's good for his health!"

It warmed his heart to see the pair like this, lying on the grass under the shade of a rust-tinted tree. Resting themselves in the cool breeze, John bashfully shoving his sketchbook under himself whenever Alex glanced back at him- a half finished portrait.

Still, it hurt to think of what fickle pain Alexander was in, both of them oblivious- far too tentative and shy. Brushing hands or hurried gazes, strings of ignorant belief pulling them back.

Lafayette turned away from the pair, walking unnoticed to where some of the higher officers horses were grazing. Most notably one horse as white as cotton tied to the sturdy tree branches- and no owner in sight. The man who just moments before was grooming the horses fine coat, and Lafayette sighed and stroked the creature. It was foolish perhaps, but Lafayette could not stop the tug in his heart when he was around him. The man was married for gods sake Gilbert, he couldn't...

The wind chill grew the further Lafayette walked, the clearing on the hilltop too exposed for shelter. He took to the trees, amber dappled sunlight filtering through leaves, a few littering the ground and crunching satisfyingly under his boots. Faint birdsong pervaded the air, most seemed to be moving somewhere warm, they seemed to have more sense then their army. Slowly, as Lafayette listened, a humming tune could be heard. A melody sung by a deeper voice than his own, powerful and familiar. A song that cut out half-way through. Lafayette froze behind a tree, watching as Washington leant against a tree trunk and hummed a song into the breeze, his eyes shut. Lafayette's heart thumped, a rhythm too strong to ignore. Too familiar.

He had tried so hard to hear this before, sometimes so explicitly it was a miracle George hadn't caught him. Lafayette loved him, admired him dearly- and his song was perhaps the most beautiful thing he had heard. And he wished he hadn't.

 

"So that's how you know it, and you're certain it's his song?"

"Absolutely," Lafayette nodded quickly, "but I wish it wasn't."

Alex paused, turning to look at Lafayette in disbelief. Even he who was unsure, still wanted to hear his soulmates song- still wanted to know that he had the chance to be loved.

"Why?"

Lafayette sighed, shutting his eyes tight as he tremble in his hands grew.

"Because Alex, I have a very special song. I did not know for so long, too naive. I love Adrienne with all my heart, when she and I are together my blood sings and I am happy. I only noticed after that our songs were not quite the same. Hers is like a nightingales, yet I can recognise some of her notes in my song, but there is an unfamiliar melody also. I know now that is Washingtons, but I cannot, I will not believe it."

A son racked though his body, and clutched closer to Alex. Before he could protest Lafayette shook his head, desperate to continue.

"Because, his song cuts out mon ami. It is like the light from an oil lamp, it goes out so fast, it is over. I am afraid, I am afraid that I know what it means."

With that Lafayette fell into silence, only breaking it for the occasional gasp of air from emotion-constricted lungs. Alex held his hand tightly. He knew what it meant.

Apart from himself, there was only one other person who didn't have a soul song. Or rather, used to, but the music goes dark when their is no more audience to an orchestra. A one-sided duet isn't worth singing at all. Washington was mid-forties, Lafayette just pushing twenty.

They sat in silence, the wind outside whispering slightly under the canvas. Lafayette's breathing. Holding hands in the darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want them to be happy, curse you time and the human lifespan!
> 
> I know the idea of a stopped soulsong has been hinted at on previous chapters, but there you go- Lafayette's life is very sad when it comes to deaths of those he holds dearest.
> 
> P.S next chapter L+H


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They all try their best. The symphony forms a harmony.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for some poorly written violence, but otherwise I'm pretty happy about this!
> 
> Just read it, you won't be disappointed. Enjoy!
> 
> All kudos and comments are greatly appreciated, there is still much more melody to come!

'There is a matter, which often obtrudes itself upon my mind, and which requires the attention of every person of sense and influence, among us. I mean a degeneracy of representation in the great council of America. It is a melancholy truth...'

Alexander chewed his lip, mind half wondering from the letter to Lafayette, still hidden away in his tent with the guise of a fever. The other aides didn't notice how his furious scribbling had paused, as Alex sighed causing the candlelight to flicker at the how trapped Lafayette was.

'Folly, caprice a want of foresight, comprehension and dignity, characterise the general tenor of their actions.'

Alex paused again, disturbed not by his thoughts but by the quiet tapping tune from his right. Laurens hovered his fingers above the wooden desk like a pianist would above ivory keys, playing the familiar song he had been teaching Hamilton on the imaginary piano. Laurens glanced over and muffled a laugh as he saw Hamilton smiling- mouthing "sorry" before turned away.

And that was the other thing that was on his mind.

It wasn't easy to teach Hamilton piano without the actual instrument, let alone sheet music or a skilled instructor. However Laurens did his best, drawing out and labelling keys on a piece of parchment and humming the tune that would play- tapping his fingers in rapid succession as he tried to remember music he was taught so long ago. Hamilton struggled, but like anything he was desperate to learn- persevered. He could pretty much tap out the beginning of a simple lullaby Laurens knew, and it proved easy enough to practice often when his hands used to tap against the desk when he was working- so no one would notice if those random taps had a tune.

Washington sometimes noticed, noting the melody one night as it was just him and Washington working so late. He had been concerned when he had heard Lafayette was "sick", and despite Hamilton's insistence that Lafayette would recover quickly- he had decided to visit him when the work was done. So, the most natural thing for Alex to do was to ensure there was a seemingly endless supply of letters to be read and checked by the General, giving Laf more time to himself.

As Alexander stood, gathering his completed letters to give to General Washington, Laurens tugged at his coat and held out a small pile of his own while winking. Alexander almost didn't notice the small note that was slotted between an essay on slavery and a plea for congressional support, his familiar looping handwriting spelling out a time and place.

'Tent, 8pm.'

 

"Alexander this is the third time you've returned with more work to be signed."

Washington eyed him curiously, smiling as Alex saluted.

"I would hope to see these letters sent immediately your Excellency, after all their contents are most urgent."

"And the weary hand of my aide is not? Why am I not surprised that two-thirds of these are signed with your pen?"

Alex smiled and shrugged, "I work as fast as I can."

"I see," George stood and placed the pile to one side of his desk "I will return to these later, I promised I would see how the Marquis is feeling."

"Wait Sir, Lafayette asked not to be disturbed, I do not want to upset him."

Hamilton stepped in front of the open canvas, causing Washington to shoot him a puzzled look.

"This is not on military business Hamilton, it is merely personal."

"But-"

Washington frowned, looking at Alex now with more rampant concern- "Does Lafayette not want to see me? Laurens informed me that only you had spoken to him."

"No, no it's not like that," Alex say how the Generals face fell, just for a moment, "He is in a more delicate frame of mind than usual Sir."

"He misses his homeland," Alex clarified, "his wife and the country he grew up in. I know all too well what it feels like to be a foreigner in a land that you long to be your own- so I could console him in that sense."

Washington nodded, still concerned and worried beyond that of a commander. A pang of guilt shot through him as he remembered what Lafayette had said.

'It is like the light from an oil lamp, it goes out so fast, it is over. I am afraid, I am afraid that I know what it means.'

As Washington turned back to the desk, Alex reached out and held his arm.

"Sir, if I may give some advice for our Frenchman."

"Continue." 

"Although he is not without friends, I don't doubt that the affections of one he most closely admires might raise his spirits greatly. He has great faith in you."

Washington stood pensively for a couple moments, mind seemingly far away from the present. 

"I see. Then I must try my best, mustn't I Hamilton? We cannot have Lafayette without optimism."

"Yes Sir, you must."

 

Alex was beginning to believe he hated his hands. Despite his concentration, and John's patient explanations and guidance, Alexander just couldn't remember the order in which the keys should be played. His fickle fingers traitorously played wrong notes, or he forgot a whole section entirely and had to start over. Laurens wrapped an arm around his shoulders as Alex struggled. They had been at this for over two hours.

"You're doing your best."

Alex huffed.

"I'm impressed that even after over ten years with no practice you can remember this much."

He scoffed, "And I believe you never had such trouble and tapping bits of paper in an order."

"Fair point."

Alex shoved his chair backwards, crossing his arms and nearly sending Laurens hurtling off his seat.

"This is impossible."

"Alexander Hamilton, nothing you can't do is impossible. Try and relax and think of the song in your head, I sometimes hum it to help me."

"Yes and you had an actual piano to learn, this war will be over by the time I can play a tune."

Laurens chuckled, "Then what? Leave your sweetheart waiting just to hear a song?"

"What?"

Laurens flinched, like he had misspoken. But frowned and stared at Alexander.

"You're going to have to visit her at some point, play her a song and she'll swoon faster than you can write."

"I don't know what you're talking about John."

Laurens scowled, facing away as Alex remained confused- his tantrum quickly freezing into concern.

"You know. Eliza. At the ball."

Her beautiful blue dress, the way the candlelight reflected off it and shimmered all around them. His hand around her waist and her bright smile. It all came flooding back. Laurens, he must of...

"No I don't think you understand-"

"Don't play ignorant Hamilton, what better way to win a woman's heart than to play her your soul song to her. You seemed to have charmed the family already, it's a pity that this is the only thing you struggle with."

Laurens stood, refusing to look at Alex and turning to leave.

"John wait, I never wanted to marry her!"

"Then what Alex? Court a fine woman like that a leave her?" Laurens spat.

"It's not for her, it's for you!"

His words practically went unnoticed, John clenching his teeth and turning around to stare Hamilton in the face.

"Do what you want, I'm done with helping you anymore."

"Wait!"

Laurens stormed out into the night, the crunch of snow under his boots growing quieter. Alex cursed, rising from his seat and following him out. The only main light source in the camp was the kitchen, where it became a bar late at night for the men who couldn't sleep or just wanted to get drunk. There were few fires burning where people gathered, running their hands together near the flames.

It was a long walk away, yet the amber light painted the crest and troughs of the dark clouds. The campsite was silent aside from the quiet murmurings of tents or distant cheers of men drinking. The snow underfoot was nearly unblemished, aside from another pair of footprints.

The many candles and light from the campfires glowed in the ice that clung to blades of grass, and the crushed ground grew slippery from many footsteps. Some men stood by fires, others leaning on tables nursing a drink. Laurens was nowhere to be seen. Sighing, Alexander waved his hand for a glass and sat on one of the abounded logs by a dying fire, it's embers barely melting the snow around it. The alcohol was foul, but enough of it made his senses dull to its taste, only the persistent thought of John pervaded his mind.

Alex remembers nights when he and John had managed to sneak a bottle of something French and most importantly- strong, back to their tent. The hushed triumph of opening the bottle and how it was passed back and forth between stories. Eventually, when it was long emptied and they chased droplets on the lips, Laurens would lay over his bed and Alex on his- barely speaking above the sounds of the night. Laurens was pretty when he was drunk, a flush of pink that spread from his cheeks to someone far below where Alex could see under his shirt. He damned the fabric, as Laurens laughed in stupor and the freckles on his neck were visible. His hair would get frizzy and untameable, and when he finally fell asleep Hamilton would pull the covers over him before tearing his gaze away. He couldn't look at John so tenderly asleep, unknowing of how Alex burned.

The sounds of a commotion awoke Alex from a daze, three men were arguing behind one the tents. Alex laughed as one of them swore, pushing someone against the canvas. They sounded drunk.

Alex walked, slightly unsteadily, towards the bar, placing the few glasses he had collected down and resting to hear the squabbling. John's voice rang through the air and he froze, hearing now all his slurred insults. Alexander walked quickly over the where he could hear the voices, John's growing louder as the other men grew more and more aggressive. Rounding the corner, Hamilton locked eyes with Laurens who was pinned against the tent by a soldier with a broken tooth, standing a good four inches above him.

"Laurens!"

The others turned to the noise, squinting at the light but laughing as they saw him.

"So it's your whore come to rescue you. Did you pay him off just to see you not hurt for your precious father?"

"Alex," John stared at him wide eyed and whispered.

"Fuck off, don't you have to be a drunk bastard elsewhere?" Alex spat, walking closer towards them.

"That's rich coming from the bastard who used his pretty mouth to rise so far." The other spoke.

"I worked for this, you just grew tired of your own left hand and decided to join a war for more action."

The man released Laurens, glaring at Alexander. Alex was nearly toe to toe with the man.

"Whoreson who doesn't even know his place, seems like it's up to me to show you."

The man took a step forward, and Laurens thrust his fist towards him and landed on his jaw. He stumbled backwards, holding his bleeding chin before snarling at John. Alex kicked him swiftly in the shin, twisting his head to see John grappling with the other man. Before he could turn back he felt a sharp pain on his temple, as the man spat out blood in between the gaps in his teeth and pulled back to strike again. Alex decided to just tackled him, pushing him into the mud and snow as they scratched at each other. He felt warm blood on a split lip, and newly formed bruises on his ribs. He only pulled away when he felt someone tugging at his arm, lifting him from the snow. Laurens looked no better, but pulled him to his feet before starting to run. Both of the men were on the floor, but Alex only had a moments glance before his almost tripped and turned back. The scuffle would have drawn the attention of others, and Laurens led them both into the dark shadows of the trees far from the glaring light.

The ran for minutes, Alex focused on John's grip on his arm and the movement of his legs to not stumble. The crunch of snow was their only rhythm.

Laurens slowed and stopped when they had almost made it back to their tent, taking a much longer route among the black tree trunks and low-hanging pine branches. John leant against a tree, panting heavily. In the darkness, Alex could barely make out his features, just the fast rise and fall of his chest and the way his curls bounced with each breath. Alex wiped away the blood from his lip, it bled again quickly and soon the back of his hand was damp with blood. Regaining his breath, Alex spoke.

"Why? Why did you leave?"

He sounded breathless, and Laurens lifted his head.

"Why did you help me? You didn't need to come."

Alexander stepped forward, tentatively placing his hands on Laurens arms to calm him.

"Because I..."

Hamilton was speechless, he couldn't form the words around him. Couldn't muster any syllable or phrase.

"What is is Alexander?" Laurens spoke harshly.

His mouth hung half-open uselessly. The weight in his chest constricted his lung, barely able to breathe. He couldn't convey any message except-

He began to hum. Hum the only tune he could remember effortlessly. The soft melody of notes that had begun to come to him so long ago while gazing at Laurens over the old wood table with the other aides. The song so natural it felt calming just to remember.

Laurens looked at him in confusion, then panic. He bit his lip and watched Alexander through desperate eyes, hands trembling. 

And then Laurens kissed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep. Yep. Yeeeeep.
> 
> Fools have finally figured it out. I hope.
> 
> You're welcome <3
> 
> Comments make me want to be nicer to Laurens- he deserves it.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Breathe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I like this chapter. A lot. Yes it's fluffy and gooey but I can indulge myself in a little happiness. 
> 
> All kudos and comments are appreciated greatly.  
> Enjoy!

Laurens kissed him like it was the only way to breathe.

He held Alexander's face in his hands, clutching at him like a dying man. His eyes were tightly shut as he concentrated on the feeling of their lips pressed together.

It was so sudden and intense Alex could barely react, torn between reciprocating the kiss, gazing at John or leaning into his embrace- he blinked, gathering his senses in the near pitch black.

John Laurens was kissing him.

The thought struck him like a bullet, snapping him out of his daze. Alexander pushed John back against the tree, sliding his hands down to John's waist and deepening the kiss. Laurens whimpered a little, and Alex felt his could finally breathe as their touch felt like fire- raw, hot and electric between them.

Parting to actually breathe, Laurens rested his head on the wood, Alex watching his curls fall from his face in astonishment. He was grasping at the truth like it was handfuls of sand, slipping through his fingers and not quite believable yet.

John finally looked back, insecurity flashing in his eyes as Alexander was still frozen.

"I'm so sorry-"

"Don't."

Before Laurens could finish Alex surged forward, his languid limbs all movement and energy now, crashing their lips together again just to hold onto this fantasy for a little longer. Their teeth clicked together uncomfortably at the sudden kiss, but Laurens turned his head until kissing was easy- breathing without thinking. Johns hands fluttered from Alex's neck to his hips- pressing them closer together, as touch was so heightened in the darkness that each sensation felt like gold.

"I thought you didn't know," Laurens gasped.

"I thought you didn't either."

John chuckled, pushing Alex back before slightly so the space between them wasn't so cramped. John wiped his mouth on his sleeve, and noticing the stain, looked back up to Alex.

"Your lip's bleeding."

"Oh."

"And I'm pretty sure you've got a cut on your cheek."

"Frankly Laurens I couldn't care right now."

 

John shifted uncomfortably on the hard pew of the colleges church. His thoughts wondered in the dappled light of the stained glass windows, dancing in the tall ceilings and exploring the detailed stonework in its walls. The preacher continued, despite his eyes darting up to grandeur of the rooftops. 

"Thou shalt not lie with mankind, as with womankind: it is an abomination-"

His hands dug a little into his thighs, glancing forward at the brown mass of curls a few rows ahead, Francis always watches in rapt attention- seemingly unaware to how they have done abominations. 

He clenches his teeth and waits until the ceremony is over, lights a candle while leaving. For it is sin what they commit yet do so without hesitation.

Francis catches up with him in the cold spring grounds, frost just beginning to relent its scorn upon the grass. He smiles and it is sin how John's heart leaps.

He writes to his father; about his studies, his hobbies, Francis. His closest friend. The ink on the paper lies, written by his own hand- and it is sin how he speaks of Francis so amicably, the guilt lying heavy in his chest like a great lion- one jolt and his guilt is roaring so loud he can barely think.

It is sin.

 

Laurens ran the cloth over Hamilton's mouth gently, dabbing the bleeding until it had stopped. Laurens had suffered worse than Alex, what looked almost to be a black eye and the way he winced as he bent over to take of his boots indicated it wasn't much better below the neck.

"Thank you."

Laurens smiled weakly, folding away the cloth but seemingly unsure of what to do next.

"How, how did you know? That we shared the same song? That we're..." John trailed off, his hands shaking slightly.

"I didn't. I have never had a soul song before, but I started to learn it when I met you."

Laurens nodded, chewing his lips and staring at Alexander.

"I thought you didn't. I guessed from how you reacted when I asked, and of how protective Laf was over you that you might be someone without a soul song."

"When was Lafayette protective?" Alexander laughed a bit, the image of the Marquis as a mother hen amusing.

"After I got shot. He said that if I didn't apologise he would 'drag me by my hair across land and sea and to France and back until I saw sense.'"

They both laughed, Lafayette was strong-willed and determined in his resolutions, neither doubted that if it came to it John's scalp would hurt by the time he got back to Alexander. 

"I was probably going to anyway. Lafayette just kicked me a little to apologise."

"Probably for the best."

"I know, I- I'm so sorry Alex."

Laurens looked more concerned, and Alex reached forward to rest his hand on his arm.

"Its alright."

"It hurt, so much, making you believe that I didn't want you. I do, when you are around it burns like canonfire when I cannot hold you close to me. When I cannot articulate how much I cared about you."

John smiled, but tentatively entwined their hands, still trembling slightly, still unsure. 

"Alex, I'm afraid to say that I love you. But I do."

Alexander squeezed their hands tighter, like air filled his lungs for the first time.

"I love you too," he whispered, the stillness between them was like fine snowflakes or shards of ice- shattered in warm breath so easily.

"I would defy everything to love you John Laurens. I know I am so fiercely in love with you that I cannot doubt anymore. I want to rewrite our story with this courage I have now to say that I love you in the beginning- so I can relive each moment together like we are now."

"If I needed something profound to say I would go to you to write it Alex, how do you conjure my emotions so easily?"

Alex laughed, staring in wonder at the blush on John's cheeks. The face he could now touch and place their lips together. 

"Practice?"

Now Laurens laughed, and stifled his giggled with a yawn that only made Alex grin further. John shrugged off his coat, folding it haphazardly onto the floor and untying his cravat. The freckles on his neck were dotted like a constellation, and Alex drifted his fingers up to them and stroked John's skin carefully.

"Will you...?" Laurens asked.

Alex nodded fervently, too consumed in his own exploration of John to speak. In contrast to Laurens folding his uniform, Alex tore away the trousers and coat until left just in his shirt, which billowed down past his hips. He was too embarrassingly short for his weight.

Laurens looked perfect, tanned skin with a whole galaxy written upon his body. Alex glimpsed John staring at him with his mouth half-open as Alex bent over to pull back the blankets.

Soon Laurens was close to Alex, their legs locked together in an embrace as the both refused to shut their eyes and sleep when the other was so close. Alex kept trying to count his freckles as an exercise to fall asleep, but also satisfying the part of him that longer to keep his eyes on Laurens for as long as he could. John shuffled closer to him and pushed back a start lock of hair from Alex's eyes.

"God forgive me and let me keep him. Let no man take him from me." Laurens whispered, his eyes falling shut.

"Amen."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love them so much.
> 
> It was honestly quite hard not to cram all that I wanted Laurens to say or all the fluff they could do together in this chapter- but I must be patient.
> 
> Comment if you like.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Perhaps he had died, and this was the moment eternal he was blessed with. He didn't know what he had done to deserve such a heaven, but John's soft sighing was more than a melody to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, life blah blah blah oh look actual sexual content in this chapter! I can write it after all!
> 
> First time writing this- be kind. I'm heavily reliant on other wonderful fics.
> 
> Comments and kudos mean the world to me!  
> Enjoy!

Despite it being mid-winter, the pale peach sunlight filtered through the gaps in the tent, tinting the ground. The air was still, for once, silent and cold- making the warmth of a bed so much more inviting. It was perfect for sleeping until the clatter of the camp woke Alex.

And yet he was already awake.

The gentle rise and fall of John's chest was so peaceful, Alex mused as he swept a strand of his dark curled hair from his face. Laurens had huddled closer to him in sleep, almost pressing their chests together and wrapping his arms around him. Laurens always had the habit of sprawling himself out in bed, similar to how Alex would stretch like a cat when he was tried, and it seemed instinctually John had clung to his body heat. Alex felt his heart beat quicker as he swept his gaze of John's undisturbed face, and closed his eyes as John shifted and nuzzled more into Alex's neck.

Perhaps he had died, and this was the moment eternal he was blessed with. He didn't know what he had done to deserve such a heaven, but John's soft sighing was more than a melody to him. 

On the other hand the coiled heat in his chest was decidedly real, the press of skin against skin delighting him and making the heat all the more restless. Taking action, Alex brushed aside the curls from Johns neck, leaving it bare for him to taste. Laurens mumbled as Alex pressed his lips to each freckle he found there, nipping gently at the skin until there were tiny pink marks.

"...Alex?"

He gazed down to see John's eyes fluttering open, staring up at him at first in confusion, then relief. 

"Laurens."

"Why do you insist on waking me up by pestering me?"

Laurens smiled, eyes flitting all over Alex- wide like he was still surprised to be there.

"I could not resist you, besides, now we have more time to ourselves."

"So I see," Laurens shuffled upwards until he was facing Alex properly.

"And what would you do with the early hours of the morning?"

Alex smirked, running a hand over John's back and feeling him shiver.

"Seek pleasure in my closest friend."

Laurens blushed furiously, yet still tried to act unassuming as he spoke.

"It's far too early for conversation, you will find no pleasure in those means."

"Then I must find it elsewhere."

Laurens leaned forward, kissing Alex as he wrapped a hand around his waist. It felt like a memory, lips still soft and swollen pink with passion. Alex's cut lip protested, but he ignored it for the far favourable sensation of Laurens moaning softly into the kiss. The hand on his waist slid down his back, further until Alex squeaked and Laurens chuckled.

Breaking the kiss, Alex looked over Laurens- panting, flushed and eyes wide. The unbearable heat grew.

Alex could feel John's hardness pressing against his thigh, and was sure Laurens could feel his too. Laurens gasped as Alex rutted against him, finding a little release in the pressure.

"Laurens, I will ask you plainly. I know this is sin and sodomy, but if we are truly so matched then god will absolve me. Do you want this? I would not ask it if you if I was anything but certain, of my sentiments and your own, and I want you to know that we can stop at any moment, but let me-"

"Yes, Alex. God yes. You talk too much."

Laurens hastily kissed him, a hand in his hair and tugging just so that Alex groaned.

"Then let me find something else for my mouth to do."

Rolling Laurens over into his back, Alex lifted the shirt over John's head and tossed it to the side. John did the same to him as Alex began to kiss along his neck and chest, biting until Laurens hissed.

"Nothing above the collar Alex." He moaned.

Alex smiled, sucking hard on his neck until the skin was red turning purple. Laurens swore, gripping the bedsheets with a white-knuckled grip. Sinking lower, Alex continued to mark his work with bruises, following the trail of freckles until Laurens fell silent. Alex placed a delicate kiss to the tip of his cock, glancing up to see John biting into the meat of his hand.

"You are a bastard Alexander Hamil-"

Laurens words were cut offf by a bitten off moan as Alex took him in his mouth, swirling his tounge around the tip as John's hips trembled in pleasure. Although his own hardness was pressing infuriatingly against the bed, Alex held Laurens down by his thighs, relishing in the crescent moon marks left by his fingernails. All his.

Laurens tapped urgently against his shoulder, Alex opened his throat to allow him to take more of his length. Laurens grabbed his shoulder now, pulling him up. He looked debauched, lips red from biting down and strands of hair sticking to the perspiration on his forehead. Before Alex could speak Laurens captured his mouth, biting his bottom lip and claiming him. Surprised, Alexander barely registered John moving them onto their sides. He did notice, with a gasp a moan, John's hand wrapping around both their cocks. He stroked slowly, picking up speed as with Alex's soft, sharp intakes of breath with each slide between John's hand and his dick. The tentative thrusts of his hips sent pleasure all over, and Alex panted into John's neck as he neared his end. John lowered his head, whispering in his ear as the pressure between them increased impossibly so, and the tight coiled heat in his chest felt unbearable.

"Come for me Alex."

With a wordless cry Alexander comes, hot streaks over John's hand and cock. Alex's whole body tenses, and after a few strokes slippery with his release John comes too. They lie still in the sun kissed afterglow until it grows colder, Alex reaching over for some old neckcloth that needed to be washed to clean up the mess.

Laurens wraps his arms around Alex's waist, kissing his neck, chest and face. It's pleasant, the softness of his lips and how gentle he is.

"I love you" Laurens mumbles into his chest, the blush fading from his cheeks.

"I love you too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> <3  
> I try my best.


End file.
